Savior of Rome
by Robin4
Summary: Here an alternate ending to the movie, presuming that Commodus chose not to fight Maximus in the arena. Here he instead decides to hold him until a later date, but destiny intevenes and forces them to fight on the same side to save Rome.
1. Gladiator

## **Savior of Rome******

# PART ONE: GLADIATOR

Maximus slumped wearily in the chains that bound him, shoulders aching, muscles overstrained, body broken and abused.Beneath his dirty and bloodied exterior, the gladiator knew that he was all but beaten.No less than two broken ribs stabbed painfully into the skin imprisoning them; at least one ankle was badly sprained, if not broken; he was dizzy and disoriented, and surprised he was still alive.To say the least, he was in serious trouble.Despite his old, battle-hardened, resolve, he could not check a sigh; Maximus the great, the indomitable, the invincible – was beaten.For the first time in his life, he had lost.

Sudden images of what might have been assaulted his mind, his memory, and his imagination.As before, as every other time, he longed for what he lost.Yet the images were no longer of only his lost wife and son, of noble and dead Marcus Aurelius – now he saw Lucilla, Lucius, Quintus, and even Commodus, lying murderer that he was.How many more would die now because of his failed escape?Proximo had already fallen; would now it be Juba, Haken, or one of the others?Or would Lucilla fall under her evil brother's eye – to die; or worse.

Maximus' chest contracted with pain._Lucilla…_suddenly it meant very much not to lose her again, not to cause her more pain.Old feelings, long forgotten, floated again to the surface of his now unshielded heart._Lucilla…_Lucilla and Lucius, so innocent, so pure…could he be the cause of their deaths as well?His shoulders tightened in a shudder at the thought.The dark, dank walls of his cage closed in upon him like the jaws of death, imprisoning not only his physical self, but his spirit and soul as well.He had lost a battle he had not known to fight, been captured moments after Cicero's unjust death, then tortured and beaten – for what?There were no questions, no apparent reasons; the Praetorians seemingly knew all the answers he never would have surrendered anyway.No, Commodus' spite and hatred drove them, nothing more.But Maximus could not despise his tormentors in return; they were loyal to their Emperor, just as he had once been._Marcus._

Sorrow pierced his heart.He had failed not only himself and his family, and not only Rome – he had failed Marcus Aurelius' dream.He had failed to fulfill the last wishes and commands of his Caesar; he had let down Marcus for the first and only time.The whisper had died with hardly a protest, expelled on the last breath of its noble owner.Almost without a conscious decision, the words left his lips as if in prayer.

"Forgive me old friend; I have killed your dream," Maximus whispered, heart laced with sorrow, regret, and shame that he almost could not bear.

Once spoken, however, the weight of his failure seemed to ease.For a moment, he almost felt the presence of his dead Emperor, and from somewhere inside, he felt that _the battle was not over._Almost in a daze of shock and bewilderment, Maximus lifted his weary head to gaze at the blue sky he was certain lay somewhere beyond the prison's dark ceiling.His heart filled with a childlike wonder for the first time in years as it all became clear.

"Is that your command, Caesar?" he asked in awe."Am I still your Protector, Marcus?"Tears he'd not shed since burying his wife and child flooded his eyes and his heart exerted itself fully for the first time since he'd lost everything he held dear.Revenge no longer mattered; he lived for Rome.There was one dream left to fulfill.

Maximus Decimus Meridius, a man unaccustomed to failure, straightened in his chains.It was not over._Please forgive that I cannot join you yet, my loves,_ he thought._I will see you again, but not yet._

Quintus paced restlessly on the ground floor of the Praetorian barracks.Their finery and decoration meant little to him; he was lost in other thoughts.He was a solider; he obeyed – but this was something he could not bear!Maximus, true, had defied the Emperor – turned his _back_ on him! – but Commodus' treatment of him was unbearable.Better to give the man a clean death.Maximus deserved at least that much.He had served Rome for too long, and too well, to be given anything less.

For the ten thousandth time, Quintus found himself half-wishing he had refused Commodus' first command.What would have then come, he did not know, yet – yet Maximus would surely have been a more just leader than Commodus could ever be.Had he been staging a coup?Could that have been the miracle Quintus almost dreamed of nearly every night?If only Maximus had been able to act – _if only I had allowed him his chance _– what a fine Caesar he would have been.If he could have been persuaded to rule, Quintus reminded himself.The man had no ambition – he was a symbol of honor in a now dark world – honor that Rome so desperately needed.Honor that Rome desperately wanted – already the masses of the Coliseum screamed his name in the distance, yet Maximus would not fight today, destined as he was to Commodus' dark torture cells.

"General!" a desperate voice screamed his name, breaking through his dreary reverie and forcing him back to only a slightly more pleasant reality.One of his lieutenants, Presario, came running toward him, his normally immaculate Praetorian uniform stressed into disarray.

Eyes darting wildly in a soldier's instinctive way, Quintus spun, unable to identify the threat he knew must be there."The Emperor?" he asked breathlessly, halfway between hope and dread.

"An army, sir," Presario gasped."An army approaches from the north!"

_Maximus?No, the Felix Legions are still unaware… and lack the leadership to fight for their champion._"Whose?" he barked, barely comprehending what he had just heard._An army marches on _Rome_?_

"Germanian, General!"

"Germanian?"That was impossible, incredibly impossible.Maximus has smashed the last of the Germanian armies, securing the Empire's borders once and for all…When the finality sunk in, Quintus could barely force words past his suddenly parched lips."To Rome?" 

Presario, out of breath for words, merely nodded.The unthinkable was as unbelievable for him as it was for his commander, yet Quintus's mind was already racing ahead, pulled by the Emperor's best stallions in the world's second fastest chariot.Not in ten centuries had an army marched into Rome… and one was not going to enter on his watch.Not while he commanded the Praetorian Guard.Possible solutions battled for attention in his mind, yet not one reached the top of the stack.Perversely, he wished that just once, he could speak to his old mentor again, have just one more chance to ask for guidance.

…But there was no chance of that.Not now.Not ever.

So he snapped into action."Assemble the guard at the northern and eastern walls.Every available man – everyone, you hear me?Leave six men on the Emperor, six only.Muster every retired solider from the city."

"Yes, sir!"

Quintus took a deep breath, willed control, and turned to his secretary"Scribe!"

"Sir!"

"What legions are closest to Rome?"

"Four northern legions are at Ostia, four hours' march.There are three also to the south, two days hard march," the scribe replied rapidly – but not nearly quick enough for Quintus' tastes.

"I know how far it is to Ostia!" he thundered, allowing his grief and worry to overflow in one satisfying bellow._Of all the men to be closest, it must be Maximus'… and they will never fight well without their general.Yet we have no choice._"And we don't have the time for anything else," he finished aloud.

"Sir?" the scribe questioned cautiously.

Quintus regained self-control with an effort."Never mind.Speed messengers to all legions within a week's ride.Tell them to drive hard to Rome.We have a Empire to defend."

"Yes, sir."And with that, the scribe sped off as well, leaving Quintus alone to face the world.And to tell his emperor the news.

Lucilla strode through the corridors of Imperial Palace, thankful for her first moments out of her brother's sight since… since she had been forced to betray Maximus.Forced?No, not quite forced.Had she been stronger, she could have found another way, any way, to delay Commodus just long enough for Maximus to make his escape – but what done was done, and she was powerless now; powerless to help the man she'd only days before admitted she still loved.Impossibly, she found herself wishing to see him one last time, just long enough to apologize for what he must have known she had done.

Just as she threw herself into a chair in her private quarters, Lucius bound into the room._The Empire must be falling apart, _she reflected bitterly, _since Commodus allows me to see my beloved son.He thinks I will taint Lucius – but with what?The truth?Hardly.I have no truths left to tell after I betrayed the only man who could have set my world to rights._

"Mother!" her son cried joyously – he still did not understand that this forced separation was permanent.Lucilla forced a brave smile for him as she pulled the boy into her lap.He hugged her eagerly, exclaiming "Guess what?"

"What?" Lucilla asked, playing along with the old game for her son's sake, but her heart was no longer with it.Her heart had broken with her betrayal; nothing short of a miracle could mend it again.

"Quintus is gathering the Praetorians!They say there's going to be fighting in the city!"

Lucilla was agape.Now even the smallest remaining elements of her world were going to pieces."Against who? The Senate?" she gasped._Oh, Father, what have I done?_

The boy's eyes widened as he shook his head, excitement racing through his simple young brain."Against an army!" he cried."It's going to be a real battle!Can I go?"

"No!" she cried, horrified, but again forced her calm to rule her.Lucilla felt near fainting at the possibility that Lucius would even see a battlefield, yet she could not allow him to see how worried she was. "A battlefield is no place for young boys," she added evenly, surprised at her own control, which was greater than anything she would have managed before her father's death._"Was I so very different then?"_

_"You laughed more."_

_Things were simpler then, Maximus.I had more to laugh about.I had you._

"But uncle says the games make me strong.Why wouldn't battle?" Lucius asked innocently.

Lucilla stroked his beautiful hair with one hand, heart hammering."Because there are no rules in battle, Lucius.The games have rules to protect innocent bystanders.War does not."_People die,_ she did not say._Like my father.Like Maximus.Like me, if I'm lucky._But she knew she was not that weak.She would live for her son, and to someday see that bastard of a brother thrown to the ground in the Coliseum for his crimes, to be eaten by the wild animals he put there, or killed by the gladiators he imprisoned._Like Maximus._

No matter what she did, her thoughts always returned to him.Maximus – her general, once upon a time.A wistful smile found a place upon her lips as she remembered the rumors.Ten years ago, the entire court had been sure the two of them would marry – and even then, gossip said that Maximus would become the successor of Marcus Aurelius.They both had laughed then, too happy in their "secret" relations to consider changing a thing.So close they had been, before it all fell apart… She still remembered his touch, his warmth, and his laugh.He, too, had laughed more, once upon a time.One kiss had been enough to reopen all the doors she'd locked inside her heart concerning him; once again, he was her general, her Maximus.In her dreams they were still together, happy, deliriously dreaming of what might come next.

But war had again come, and fearful for his safety, Lucilla had convinced her father to keep Maximus back with him at the base camp, allegedly for the Emperor's protection, but really because Lucilla feared for Maximus' life.Unknowledgeable of his deep and intense feelings for the men he led, Lucilla unwillingly created the deepest of rifts between herself and her lover.Day after day, the wounded and dying had stumbled in from the front, and Maximus grew more and more restless, eventually begging Caesar to allow him to return to the lines, to turn the day – and Marcus had turned him to Lucilla, meaning only to show Maximus the depth of her feelings.It backfired.

Maximus had almost hated her for it.She remembered his angry words, as fifty of his dying men staggered into the camp carrying twice their number in dead, even over a decade later when they had come to have almost no meaning at all._"You are the cause of these men's deaths!Their lives lay on your soul!" _he had roared, yet she had argued that one man could not make that much of a difference, but known she was wrong even then.He may have been her general, but he was the Empire's military genius.He could have made the difference, saved those men's lives – and he told her so.

Her fear, however, remained that he could become one of the dead, that she would see his lifeless body borne into camp as a hero.Even then, Lucilla could see him fearlessly charging to his own death, for honor and for Rome, for a city he'd never seen.But Maximus had laughed at her concerns, and said they were no excuse for others to die; besides, he never lost.Just minutes later, with her father's parole, he had ridden to the front, and saved an all but hopeless battle.Maximus had won the day at the price of their love.

They could have reconciled, but both were too proud for that.And so they moved on, each marrying, each with a son – the parallels struck Lucilla as amazing.But she was a widow now, and Maximus' wife and son had been murdered at the hands of Lucilla's flesh and blood brother.She was amazed that he trusted her at all, that he could find it in her heart to love her once again… For she had felt the strength of his emotion in the one desperate, passionate kiss they had shared.Once again, he was the undefeated commander of the Army of the Danube, no more a slave than he had ever been.She had been so confident of his success then, so sure he would succeed, and that the next she saw him, Maximus would be riding into Rome at the head of 5,000 men.

"Mother?" Lucius asked quietly, breaking her from her reverie.

"Yes, sweetheart?"A momentary pang stole into her heart for her former lover; she had lost her freedom, but Lucilla still had her child.Maximus had lost everything he held dear.

"Why does Maximus not fight now?" her son asked innocently, still thinking of battle and the games with a boy's curious wonder.

Lucilla took a deep breath, feeling as her heart broke for the hundredth time."Maximus angered your uncle very much, Lucius," she said quietly."Your uncle would prefer him to be dead and forgotten."

"Why?" the boy demanded, jumping to his feet."Maximus is the savior of Rome!"

Lucilla pulled him to her and hushed him gently."You must not say such things here, my son," she warned.

"But you said…"

Sorrow racked through her for the wrongs she had wrought, threatening to bring tears to her eyes."I know," she whispered."I know."

"General!"

Quintus turned and bowed in reply to his Caesar's shout, inwardly wishing that the ingrate would go away.The current emperor might have been Marcus Aurelius' son, but he was not his father, and he had no aptitude for warfare.All he did was muddle an already serious situation up more."Highness?" he asked.

"Your men are moving too slowly, Quintus," Commodus said arrogantly."Remind them that it is Rome herself they are defending."

The general bowed his head to hide his disapproving frown, yet beckoned his officers near obediently."Press the men to move quickly," he said quietly, aware that Caesar's eyes left him for not a moment."We must hurry."

"Sir, they're moving as fast as they can," one of the lieutenants objected respectfully, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Quintus sighed helplessly."I know," he said softly, trying to convey his understanding without having to speak against Commodus."But remember that we are fighting for Rome.She is worth defending."

His officers nodded as one; they might not have understood completely, but they had their orders, and they obeyed.Quintus watched their backs as they retreated, wishing he did not feel so out of his depth.His specialty was small unit tactics, uniquely suited to the Praetorian Guard, the civil soldiers of Rome herself, but the coming battle would demand a scope of tactics that he had not yet begun to dream of.He knew the basics of what he needed to do, but was nowhere close to his former commander's instinctual understanding of his men and their enemy.

_Maximus is not here,_ he reminded himself._I am.And so I must act to defend Rome from her enemies.May the Gods guide me carefully, for I will need their aid._He glanced to the beautiful blue sky for a moment, hoping his silent prayer had been heard.

Suddenly, words split the humid air."A scout is returning!"The cry echoed across the defensive line the Romans were building, mixed with joy, apprehension, and fear.

Quintus quickly pushed his way toward the rider galloping through his lines, reaching his side as the man dismounted.Impatient for news, he grabbed the scout's shoulder roughly."What news?" he demanded, heart threatening to leap from his chest to bounce wildly upon the beautiful Roman countryside.

"They come forward," the soldier gasped, vying for breath."Ten thousand strong, including horse."

"Ten thousand!" Presario repeated softly, turning to Quintus, fear evident in his eyes."We can't stand up to that many, sir."

Quintus felt his temper flare briefly.Yes, the odds were long, but an officer never expressed doubt in the ability of Rome's armies – especially not in front of a regular such as the scout was."We will do what we must," he said abruptly, then turned to the scout once more."How far?"

"Six hours.Perhaps less," the man allowed.

"Very well.You are dismissed."Again, Quintus turned to his gathered officers.He could see in their faces how they were waiting for his commands, waiting for him to pull some miracle out of the heavens – but he didn't have a miracle to give.He was lost."Ideas?" he finally asked.

It was not what they expected from him.They expected orders, not a plea for advice, and faced with it, they suddenly were as lost as their commander.Quintus checked the despair running through him as he remembered that these men were not the battle-hardened troops he had fought with in Germania.These men were civil guards, the Caesar's own protection – and few of them had ever fought a war – just as he had never commanded one.Quintus had never felt lost before, but there was a first time for everything.Doom stared him straight in the eye and threatened to become his life.

Their blank looks were the only answers he received, and feeling the need to exert control – any type of control – over the situation, Quintus took a deep breath."All right," he began, turning to Presario."Give me a break down of our forces."

"Twenty-eight hundred Praetorians, plus four hundred retirees mustered from the city," Presario returned automatically, clearly thankful for the simplicity of the assigned task."Including two hundred light cavalry, four hundred archers."The Lieutenant shook his head helplessly."No heavy cavalry."

"How long would it take to outfit the two hundred to heavy cavalry?" Quintus asked, knowing the answer and praying he was wrong.

"Too long," Clemens, his master of horse, replied heavily.

Quintus hesitated a moment, then submitted the best plan he knew."Cavalry is our spearhead," he commanded."Infantry to fall in behind them, archers to the left rear.We'll hit them early and hit them hard."

The others nodded and moved to their respective tasks; Clemens fidgeted and hesitated a moment.Quintus read the look in the man's eyes and slapped him on the shoulder, knowing he had condemned the man and his battalion to death by placing them first, but also realizing that he had no choice; the cavalry commander would die willingly for Rome and victory."Strength and honor," Quintus rasped.

"Strength and honor," Clemens echoed, then added: "We'll take as many with us as possible, General."

Quintus could not help but wince as the officer moved away.His army was resigned to death; that was far from good.Willingness to die was necessary; expecting it was a disaster for a soldier – and one that he did not know how to divert.His army was outnumbered by three to one, and no amount of superior Roman training could overcome that in the present circumstances.He would not surrender, but Quintus knew he had lost._"People should know when they're conquered," _he remembered.

_"Would you, Quintus?Would I?"_Oh, dear gods, why now and like this?Why did he always have to learn his lessons the hard way?He had always hated school, but this was learning of a far different and much less pleasant sort.

__A voice from behind broke him from his reminiscences and made him turn."General."

Quintus turned and bowed to the slender man who stood before him, out of place on the battlefield in his white senatorial robes."Senator Falco."

"How does it go?"

_What do you think? _Quintus almost asked, but restrained himself.No good could come out of giving the arrogant senator a piece of his mind."We will be ready," he replied, wishing his words were as true as he made them sound.

"I hear things are not going well," Falco said quietly sounding genuinely concerned – more concerned, Quintus was sure, than he really was.The Praetorian commander knew that this particular senator always had his own benefit in mind, regardless of the circumstance.Rome could be burning, and Falco would be thinking about political profit.

"It could be better," Quintus allowed, wary for the baited hook sure to come.

"If I could be of assistance, I would gladly do all possible in hopes of Rome's victory," Falco said smoothly.

"To be honest, Senator, there –"

"They are coming!"Panicked cries echoed across the field; no wonder the fear; the army was far from prepared for battle.

"By the Gods…" Quintus whispered, rushing away from Falco and to the raised command point.It could not be happening – they were not ready!The Germanians were three hours away yet – before he arrived, however, his army began to cheer.

"The Northern Army!" the victorious exclamation rose and spread like wildfire.

"The Felix Legions!"

"Danube!"

As Quintus reached his observation post and swung around, he felt his heart buoy.Rank after rank of Roman legionaries marched forward in the distance, standards stabbing proudly into the air as they moved to Rome's defense.Smiling wildly, Quintus raised his arms in triumph and joined in his army's cheers._It was not over._"Thank the Gods…" he whispered.The best trained and most experienced of all Rome's armies had come to defend their capital.

But as the distance closed, Quintus' experienced eye knew something was wrong.The distant legion was advancing as if for battle, as if ready to face their own…

Side by side, the two Roman armies stood, the threat of civil war hanging heavily in the air.Tension rode high as countrymen eyed each other warily, Felix vs. Praetorian, each wondering if they were to fight for or against one another.Taking leave of General Arvalis, the commander of the Northern Army, Quintus moved to speak to Valerius, his old friend and comrade, the Infantry Commander, or master of foot, for the legion that had arrived.

They stood face to face for an instant, each assessing the other and the changes that the past eighteen months had wrought.Though once old friends, the two men now looked as potential enemies, knowing that their Caesar's actions could doom them to separate sides in the inevitable civil war – or worse yet, death at the hands of the barbarian army they had both been called forth to fight.

Valerius finally broke the strained silence."Sir, I've got to tell you that the First Felix would rather spit on Caesar than fight for him."The burly man's formality seemed out of place for such old friends, but such familiarity was a thing of the past, a thing of Maximus' time.

Quintus' eyes narrowed."General Arvalis says otherwise," he replied evenly, yet he knew with every fiber of his being that Valerius was right.As good as the 1st Felix Legion was – as good as Maximus had trained them to be – their moral was now a fickle thing, plummeting down to an all-time low as they were asked to defend the man who had condemned their champion.

Valerius' temper boiled over."General Arvalis is a fool, Quintus," he rasped, obviously warring for control of his rage and hatred for the Northern Army's new commander."He doesn't know these men.They won't fight for Commodus.They know what he did!"

"And you think I don't?" Quintus challenged, thinking, _I know better than any man.I have seen it._"I don't like it any more than you do, but we have a duty to protect Rome!That goes beyond any personal feelings we may have."

"Does it?" Valerius replied."What about Rome is worth defending now?"

Closing his eyes, Quintus felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart.Of course, Valerius was right, to a degree – but damn it if Rome wasn't two hours away from falling to Germanian troops."We are soldiers!" he rasped."We obey!"

"Not this army," Valerius said with finality, his every word pounding into the Praetorian's ears."Not for him.Maybe you don't remember what it is like to _believe_, Quintus.Maybe you're caught up in rank and riches.Maybe it doesn't matter to you anymore."Valerius' eyes flashed."But it mattes to us!We haven't forgotten.

"And let me tell you, _General_, that this army would rather march on Rome than for it."

_What?_Quintus' jaw dropped. He could not believe his ears; that a loyal, highly trained, Roman army would threaten the city was unbelievable – such a thing was just not done in time of war, and even political battles were fought without _Roman_ armies taking sides._The Gods must have a sense of humor,_ he lamented inwardly.Sense of humor… or was it a sense of decency?Nearly five thousand men had arrived with one goal in mind – to take from Rome their champion.Five thousand men, all defying their homeland in the name of one man, one extraordinary man… _"Would you, Quintus?"_

Oh, how he wished events had turned out differently.

Overcoming his speechlessness, Quintus finally managed "You would march on Rome?"However, he knew the inevitable answer.Maximus had recently captured the hearts and minds of the Roman people; he had won his army long before that.

"You know I'm not bluffing, General," Valerius replied formally, making Quintus' heartache for the friendships and camaraderie of old.He felt something tear inside every time that Valerius rightfully accused him of being caught up in the new Caesar's promises of glory.What had he come to in the months since Germania?Who had he become?Commodus had accused Maximus of treason against Marcus Aurelius, but Quintus knew the man was incapable of betraying the old Caesar's trust.Maximus had loved Marcus Aurelius, been willing to die for him – so how had he angered Commodus so much as to be sentenced to death?What had he done to make his family die with him?

"I know," Quintus finally agreed, head pounding and heart hurting."But can't it wait until we have defended Rome?There are ten _thousand_ Germanians marching this way, intent on destroying everything we hold dear!Can't you put your personal differences aside that long?"

Valerius shook his head."You know I fought for Rome, sir," he replied."But Commodus is not Rome.What he's done is wrong.We're here for the general."

He did not have to say which general.

"The general has a good point, Caesar," Falco said quietly.

"No!" Commodus snarled as he paced back and forth behind his army's lines under the watchful eyes of his own personal guard detail.His furious attention was still focused on the back of his retreating Praetorian commander."I will not make him a hero!"

"Yet General Quintus says that the Northern Army will not fight without him," the senator reminded him neutrally.Commodus swung to face the older man, eyes narrowing ominously.What _were _the crafty politician's objectives, anyway?What could he possibly hope to gain?Falco always had his own profit in mind, no matter what the situation.That was one of the reasons Commodus trusted him; he could always depend on the senator's motives to stay personal.

"What are you getting at, Falco?" Commodus asked shortly.There were too many problems, too many situations to face… On one hand, he had a Germanian army bearing down on Rome – the _gall _of those barbarians was amazing – and on the other, his most trusted advisors were asking him to let his worst enemy out of prison!The Caesar shuddered at the mere thought.First Quintus had gone insane, and now Falco, too?

"We may have to ask for Maximus' help," Falco replied.

"And you're the one who wanted me to kill him!" Commodus exploded.There were too many problems, far too many problems.His head was beginning to spin with the pressure.Why couldn't those arrogant Germanians realize when they were defeated?Didn't they know that marching on Rome just wasn't _done_?

"But he has uses now, sire," Falco whispered, still unfazed by the emperor's outburst."Besides, if we are lucky, he will be killed in battle.What more a death can you ask for?"He spread his hands with an innocent smile."It will solve _all_ of our problems."

Commodus' eyes narrowed in concentration; he had to fight a smile.It was an appealing idea; however..."What if he doesn't?"

Falco bowed."Then we arrange it ourselves, sire."

This time he allowed the smile to surface._Let him have a hero's death, _he thought._Let him die serving _me._Then the people will have to love me._"Get me Captain Albinus."

The door creaked loudly, startling Maximus out of his fist-induced bout of semi-blackness.Squinting in the suddenly bright light, he brought his head up to face his newest visitor, and was far from surprised to see Captain Albinus of the Praetorian Guard, Commodus' personal favorite enforcer.Maximus resisted the urge to spit at the twisted man, whose purposes he knew full well without asking.Instead, he contented himself with glaring evenly at the interloper.

The Praetorian shifted slightly under the heat of the former general's eyes, but spoke clearly."The Emperor demands your service, _slave_," he said with his typical arrogance.

Maximus could not help but laugh.The irony was incredible – not to mention as ridiculous as Commodus was."And what makes you think I would serve him?" he challenged, only to grit his teeth as a fist buried itself in his stomach.

"You do not say no to Caesar," Albinus hissed in his ear, fury making his words come short and sharp.

Turning to look him straight in the eye, Maximus stressed every word:"I just did."He had no intention of ever doing anything Commodus wanted him to – not in that life, the next, or in any other.Unless, of course, Commodus wished to die, which he would oblige to do rather happily…Nevertheless, that did not hold the promise it once did.No longer would he live kill the unworthy and traitorous son of Marcus Aurelius, for his emperor's last command still echoed over and over in his mind.

This time the backhand crashed ruthlessly into his face, making him wince slightly as his bruised left cheekbone received still more abuse.He blinked once, refusing to show pain as the Praetorian continued angrily."There are Germanian troops closing on Rome," he rasped.

_Rome?_Maximus' heart leapt into his throat and his stomach danced in circles.That quirk of fate assaulted him for but a moment – Commodus' arrogance leading to the jewel of the empire being attacked was so predictable, and yet also so unbelievable, to a military mind accustomed to thinking in terms of attack and defense.Rome, under attack – _under attack! _– by a barbarian army that Maximus himself had crushed only eighteen months before – before…before everything, before it all had changed.For an instant Maximus laughed a half-insane laugh… Commodus had no military mind and clearly not the sense to let those who did defend his empire.That the Germanians had made it as far as they had – however far that was – spoke very badly for Commodus' new commander of the Northern Army._"Who's in command?"_

_"Some fool from Rome."_

Clearly an idiot whom knew not what he did.Rome, in danger from the north; Rome, attacked by a barbarian army; Rome, the _light_ of the world, facing ruin in the eye – it was incredible.And now Commodus wanted his help, which was even more astonishing.

And yet the stupidest part of all was that Commodus expected to get it.

The Praetorian was staring at him impatiently."Well?" he prompted, expecting a favorable answer from the ex-general turned slave and gladiator.After all, who would dare defy Caesar?

Maximus turned his head slowly to face Albinus once more, looking deep into the man's eyes and seeing only a smug superiority that made him want to wrap his chains around the fool's neck and never let go.Fiery eyes met ice as they glared; Albinus glanced away from the general's calculating gaze, unable to equal the challenge.Finally, Maximus spoke.

"You go tell Commodus that I will never serve him."

Albinus' eyes widened in shock, then fury, as Maximus' reply sunk in.One thousand questions seemed to touch upon his lips; however, not one passed into speech.He blinked, unable to comprehend what he had just heard, and then Maximus' practiced eye picked up the movement to his right.

Searing pain, then blackness, took him.

"How _dare _he refuse me!I am his emperor!I am Rome!"

"Sire, please –" Falco tried to placate him.

"No!" Commodus shouted."I will not listen to any more of this foolishness!Kill him!"Albinus, only feet away, hesitated – not for dislike of the Caesar's command, but for fear that he'd change his mind, as he all too often did.However, his hysteria was holding for the moment."Now!"

The Praetorian bowed and turned to depart, but a rapidly approaching Quintus grabbed him.

"What is it now, General?" Commodus demanded, fury playing all over his otherwise handsome face.

"Forgive me, Caesar, but I heard you wanted Maximus' help," Quintus said hurriedly, praying with every fiber of his being that he could talk the young emperor out of killing his old friend – _for Rome, _he told himself repeatedly._I do this for Rome._

Because he didn't want to examine his other reasons.

"And he refused," Commodus snarled."Your point?"

Quintus almost stepped back from his emperor's heated rage, but a sense of duty kept him from it.Rome needed Maximus.There was no other choice, no other way to win.He took a deep breath."I might be able to convince him, sire," he said quietly, hoping to the gods that he was right and dreading what would happen if he were not.

"And why would you be able to?" Commodus mocked him, and for a moment Quintus fantasized about drawing his own sword and ending the brat's reign then and there.But no – he was too loyal for that; he'd sworn an oath to the Empire that he intended to keep; however, at the moment he could easily sympathize with Maximus' lust for this man's blood.It was easy to hate Commodus, even when you were the commander of his praetorian guard.

"I served with him, highness," Quintus replied carefully.The last thing he needed was to end up in the cell next door to his old friend."I knew him well.He might listen to me."_If he doesn't we're all dead anyway, so what's the difference?_

"Might?_Might?_" the Caesar exploded."I don't have time to rely on your guesswork, Quintus!"

Biting back the reply Commodus so richly deserved, the Praetorian commander calmly tried again."Majesty –"

"No!That arrogant fool will never do as I say.You know that!" Commodus spat, so completely certain of his own doom that he couldn't see chance when it looked him in the eye.

Senator Falco intruded before the monarch's temper could get out of hand.Smiling gently and harmlessly, he placed himself between the emperor and his general. "Caesar, General Quintus might succeed," he said smoothly, and for an instant, Quintus envied the senator's control.

But it was too late to prevent Commodus."No!I will not go crawling – "

Stepping out from Falco's shadow, Quintus finally lost control and interrupted angrily."What do we have to lose?" he demanded."The First Felix won't fight without him!We wouldn't have enough men even if they did.Maximus is our _only_ chance."

"How dare you – "

"Maximus."The call floated in on him, shifting though the hazy corridors that still called themselves his mind.Drifting within him aimlessly, uncomprehended and unwanted, much as life had often been as of late, the word had little effect.Somehow he knew that he should listen, but he was beyond caring."Maximus?"

The summons bounced about, striking off memories and old, yet unforgotten, pains.What was so important? Ah, yes, it was his _name_ that someone was saying.Why wouldn't they just shut up and leave him to the stillness and to the blackness?What did they want now?All had been quiet before the intrusion.He had been at peace.

_"Maximus!"_Quintus' bellow brought his head snapping up and broke what little connection he'd had left with the world of unconsciousness.Maximus blinked dizzily twice, struggling to place his former second-in-command with his current surroundings, but not succeeding.What the hell was Quintus doing there?He was the commander of Commodus' Praetorian Guard, and had proven where his loyalties laid long before.Then again, disoriented as he was, he couldn't be sure that this was Quintus at all.

"Quintus?" he asked, trying to shake off the pounding lashing through skull; however, the pain only seemed to get worse as he tried to push it away.Colors ran together and the world spun around him as he forced his tired knees to support his aching body, more from habit than any other reason.

His old companion finally came into slightly better focus.Indeed it was Quintus… probably on some stupid praetorian errand."Are you all right?" the general asked."You look like hell."Bless his foolish heart; he sounded worried.

Maximus' temper flared.He'd never been able to abide stupid questions, and what he was being asked, coming from Quintus in the worst of all possible situations, seemed more foolish than asking if the sky was green and the grass was purple.At another point in his life, he would have forced himself to bite back the sarcastic and heated response he found rising, but he had no reason to control himself now.

"Of course I'm all right," he snapped, all his frustration and anger finding home in his words."I've lost my family and everything I've ever known to that madman you call 'Caesar.'And for following my Emperor's last command, I've become a slave and am facing the worst death that Commodus can possibly imagine.Yes, I am just fine."

Quintus blinked in surprise at the outburst and the truths it contained."What?" 

Only then did Maximus realize that he'd gone too far, begun to speak of a secret that he had never told anyone before – a secret and a request that chance and fate had prevented him from fulfilling for so long.The awareness quickly cooled the gladiator's long-dormant rage into ice."Nothing," he said softly, doubly aware of the ache in his skull once he had regained control of himself."My temper got the better of me."

Through the pain, he studied Quintus.The other man was nodding silently, seemingly trying to find the words for – for what?He looked hassled and harried, with confusion running rampant through his troubled features, making him look older than the thirty-three years Maximus knew him to be.Maximus' calculating eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he understood."You're here from Commodus."

Though not truly asked a question, Quintus answered anyway."Yes," he admitted."But this isn't what you think."

"Really," Maximus responded dryly, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.He knew damn well where this was leading."So he doesn't want my help."

"No, he doesn't," the praetorian replied honestly."But we've managed to convince him that Rome needs you."

"Rome needs me," Maximus repeated, not without irony.Then he smiled the nasty, dangerous smile he usually reserved for enemies met in battle."He should have thought about that before he tried to have me killed the first time."An angry light flashing into his old friend's eyes rewarded his unconcern.Quintus still had his illusions about the honor and glory of Rome.

"Maximus, this isn't about Commodus!" Quintus spat angrily, yet his eyes pleaded with his general to understand."It's about the Empire!It's about everything we spent years fighting for!"

"I didn't fight for him!" Maximus snarled.If he had not been chained, he would have gladly punched Quintus for the implications of his words, yet his heart was torn inside by truths he still remembered._"Commodus can not rule.He _must not_ rule."_But he didn't know how to realize that last command.It lay beyond his power, and his inability to justify his emperor's faith in him hurt more than Maximus would have ever thought possible.

"No, you fought for Rome," the Praetorian shot back."Isn't that worth more than your hatred for him?"

_No.Yes.Of course._Maximus hissed in vexation.Yet he'd not let down the promise he made to himself."I won't fight for him," he replied angrily.

"What about Rome?" Quintus demanded.

"What about it?" he countered, looking his old friend in the eye.Barriers separated them now, barriers that wouldn't drop because of the beliefs Maximus had willingly sacrificed when he'd seen his wife and son hanging from his family home's archway, burnt and dead.

Quintus looked at him in disbelief, but Maximus only looked back, conveying the response to the unasked question silently with his eyes: _Yes, I did change this much._"Doesn't it matter?" the Praetorian commander pleaded.

"No."

The other man's shoulders slumped, defeated; wordlessly, he turned to leave.Maximus began to allow himself a bitter smile, tinged with anger at himself and the world in general, but suddenly Quintus spun around and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders."Dammit, Maximus!" he cried.His great emotion made Maximus ignore the pain shooting through his injured shoulders at the unexpected contact."This is no time for your stubborn pride!There are ten thousand Germanian troops less than two hours away from the city, and I don't even have three thousand Praetorians standing by!The first Felix is here, but they refuse to fight."

He blinked."Felix," Maximus mused aloud, his heart suddenly beginning to pound.He looked at Quintus closely."They refuse to fight?"

Now Quintus returned his gaze steadily."They want you," he said.

The former general could not help but laugh."Ten thousand," he repeated."And even if Felix would fight, you're still outnumbered."The irony was hard to believe; nonetheless, Maximus was touched by his men's loyalty.They risked Rome for him – and how did he repay them?By refusing to risk anything at all?His conscience was beginning to stir; yet the idea of fighting for Commodus still repulsed him.It was more than unthinkable; it was impossible.To fight for the man who had killed his family, who had killed Marcus Aurelius…He could not do it.

_"I knew a man once, a noble man, a man of principal, who loved my father.And my father loved him.This man served Rome well."_The words echoed through his head, leaving only one question behind in their wake.Was that man really dead after all?But that was something Maximus was unsure he was ready to answer.In anguish, he closed his eyes, trying to shut out the voice of she who knew him better than he knew himself, and who again meant so much to him…

"I cannot do this," Quintus replied quietly, and Maximus knew what an admission that was for the Praetorian to make.Quintus had as much pride as any man, and was a damn good field commander – with potential to be one of the best – but he wasn't ready for this, and he knew it.And the stakes were too high for him to risk trying.

Swallowing hard, Maximus opened his eyes.Studying the molding walls of his cell for a moment, he wondered if he really was ready to take that giant leap of faith – but he already knew the answer."All right," he whispered.

"What?" Quintus asked in disbelief.

"I said all right!" Maximus snapped, not wanting to help Commodus but unwilling to sacrifice other's lives merely for the sake of his hatred.He twisted his head around to meet Quintus' eyes once more, self-loathing making his gaze sharp."But we do this my way."

The Praetorian nodded anxiously."Right," he gulped, obviously wanting to ask what had made Maximus change his mind so suddenly, but not daring to incur the wrath he knew so well of old.Quickly, he called a guard to unlock the general's chains.The man entered, watching the gladiator warily.After hesitating, he finally turned to Quintus.

"Sir, are you sure that you want me to – "

"Yes!" Quintus snapped, bringing a rueful smile to Maximus' face.The general rubbed his wrists absentmindedly after their release, his mind already working far ahead of his body.There was much to be done and little time to do it in, but that was the story of his life."I'd say I have them cowed," he remarked, nodding after the retreating guard.

A fleeting smile lit his old comrade's features as he gained the courage to voice the question painted all over his face."What will you do?" Quintus asked curiously.

Despite himself, Maximus grinned."Win."Then his eyes and face hardened into the general's mask of old."You do have a horse and armor?" he commented, rolling his shoulders and wishing they weren't so stiff and sore.Then again, his entire body felt as if he'd been run over by a chariot.Repeatedly.

Quintus smirked victoriously."Julius!" he called out the door, then looked back to Maximus."Argento is waiting outside as well," the Praetorian added.

Maximus began to smile, but the expression froze in place as Cicero's younger brother walked in.Closing his eyes, he was there again for a moment, holding desperately to his manservant's legs as Praetorian arrows landed in his chest…With an effort, he wrenched himself from the memories and forced his eyes open.That was merely another thing that Commodus had to pay for.

"Julius."Greeting the young man with a nod, Maximus tried to avoid the youthful eyes that searched his face hopefully.Once more he felt the weight of an empire's hopes descending heavily onto his shoulders, and everything he had been was returning to haunt him.So many, just like Julius, saw him as a hero and a savior despite that he'd not been able to save Cicero, his family, or so many innocent others…

Maximus swallowed heavily as Julius' pleading eyes followed him, looking with expectation, desire, and trust in the man he believed would save Rome.Emotion welled up within him once more, but he pushed it away."I am sorry about Cicero," he finally said hollowly.From deep inside, Maximus found the strength to meet the younger man's innocent gaze."He was a good man."

"I know," Julius whispered, looking away briefly.Then he looked up again."He loved you, sir."

Once more, Maximus found himself momentarily unable to find words to communicate his deep feelings.In the silence, he made a pact to himself.He looked Julius in the eye."His death will not have been in vain," he promised.

"I know, sir."

Quintus cleared his throat."Maximus…" he began.

The general looked to him and smiled grimly, reading the other man's face and mind."Don't worry, Quintus," he said easily."I won't kill him until this is all over.Not until Rome is safe."

To his surprise, the Praetorian nodded and slapped him on the shoulder."I trust you," he replied.

Confidence buoyed inside Maximus – it was almost like a page out of the past.So much had changed, yet for one small moment in time, all remained the same."Then let's do this."He turned to Julius."Armor."


	2. General

## **Savior of Rome******

# 

# 

# PART TWO: GENERAL

Ten minutes later and properly outfitted for battle, Maximus strode into the sunlight outside the prison walls with Quintus at his side.Argento, his familiar bay warhorse, stood feet away, a startled looking Praetorian holding his bridle.The general grinned as the soldier took in the sight of him dressed in his old armor, which was decorated with not only the emblem of the Felix Legions, but also with the wolf of Rome, as had been his right to wear as Marcus Aurelius' general.He didn't know how Quintus had acquired the armor – or his precious, bone-handled and gold-inlaid sword that once again hung by his side – but, quite frankly, he did not care much.He was General Maximus once more, the Felix Regiment's ruthless dealer of death.

The stallion neighed a welcome to him, and his smile grew wider."Well, old friend," he said, patting the horse on the neck, "it looks like we're together again."Argento bobbed his head, skittering slightly in excitement, and seemingly understanding even what the Praetorian at his head did not.

"Lieutenant Presario," Quintus ordered as he gathered up the reins on his own mount, "hold the general's horse as he mounts."

The Praetorian's wide eyes darted to Maximus in surprise, but he did as commanded.Nodding politely to him, Maximus swung into the saddle lightly, feeling at home for the first time in recent memory.Argento tossed his head and lithely evaded the young man, his front legs bouncing eagerly off the ground."Easy boy," Maximus soothed, reining in the anxious stallion and patting him on his muscular neck.He knew exactly how Argento felt.

Looking to Quintus, he noticed the other man glancing about them uneasily.As he followed the other's eyes, Maximus understood why.Roman citizens were staring at him in awe, whispering amongst themselves in recognition.Several hands pointed at him, gesturing excitedly as their owners comprehended what was going on."Well," Maximus said wryly."I think Commodus is going to have a hard time keeping this a secret."

Quintus glanced at him."Maximus, no one said – " 

The general cut him off with a harsh laugh."No one had to," he responded, surprised at how casual his voice sounded to his own ears, at how much at ease he was with this precarious situation."I know Commodus.If I don't die in this battle, he'll have me killed."

The other opened his mouth to protest, but no words emerged."Then why are you helping him?"

Maximus shrugged helplessly and snorted at himself._Why, indeed…_ It was a motivation he did not quite understand himself, but the reasons were clear enough, even if they didn't make sense."We do what we have to do, Quintus," he replied quietly. "For Rome."

"For Rome," Quintus agreed.On impulse, Maximus reached out his arm to the Praetorian, and the two grasped hands, each sealing their own pact and making their own silent promises.Their eyes locked in understanding.

"For Rome."

Blue skies looked down upon the city and the sun warmed the grassy fields outside her walls.Birds flew through the air, occasionally finding a landing spot upon the surrounding Italian countryside.All in all, it was a beautiful land, uniquely unsuited to becoming a battleground.

Quintus watched Maximus' figure as he followed the general onto the field.Maximus rode straight in the saddle, showing none of the aches and pains that had to be plaguing him at the moment.The Praetorian scowled to himself, thinking of what the general had gone through during the last eighteen months.The wounds and bruises on his face and back were only part of the story, Quintus knew.However, a purpose had entered Maximus' eyes, replacing the defiance-masked emptiness he had seen at first, and though Quintus did not understand what had changed within his old friend, he was more than prepared to trust it.Whoever else he was and whatever else he had done, Maximus Decimus Meridius had served Rome well under Marcus Aurelius.He had loved the old emperor as few sons love their fathers, and would gladly have died for him._"Prudent? The emperor has been slain!"_Had he been right?It was too late to change anything now, but if circumstances dictated, Quintus swore to himself that he would give Maximus the chance he had denied him in Germania.Until then, he would protect his general like he should have done long ago.

Maximus reined in Argento, his practiced eyes scanning the battlefield.If he noticed the surprised looks the Praetorians were giving him, he gave no indication of it, but Quintus knew that the man missed little, if anything at all.The general's steady gaze turned to him once more."Command post?" he asked.

"This way," Quintus replied, taking the lead.From the corner of his eye, he saw Commodus and his advisors watching Maximus warily.The Caesar hated to rely upon Maximus, Quintus knew, but Commodus was aware of how little he really had in the way of choices – which only made him despise the situation more.The shortest route to the command post required that they pass close by the emperor and his retinue.

They took the long way.

His sharp eyes easily picked up the broad-shouldered form of Valerius arguing with a slimmer man on the raised command hill.As usual, Valerius Thrasius was gesturing wildly with his hands as he tried to get his point across, but the other was having none of it.His return gestures were sharp with authority, but the infantry commander only argued more vehemently.Drawing closer, Maximus was able to make out the words.

"The hell I'm deploying my infantry cohorts, _sir,_" Valerius shouted irritably."What will it take to get it through your thick skull that we are _not_ fighting for him?"

"He is your emperor and you will follow his commands!" the commander of the Northern Armies shot back."Now position your infantry behind the cavalry.And tell the fool commanding my heavy cavalry to get his men in place."

_'Your' heavy cavalry?_Maximus almost laughed aloud upon hearing the general's words.The day that the Felix Regiment, whom the idiot wouldn't even deign to call by name, would listen to General Arvalis would be the day that the sun shone brightly during a Germanian winter and killed someone of heat exhaustion.Still unnoticed, he halted Argento and dismounted only feet away from the arguing officers.Holding up a hand to forestall Quintus from warning them, he moved forward as Valerius continued the argument.

"You do not understand, do you?" the infantry commander spat contemptuously."These men don't fight for you either!"

Before Arvalis could reply, Maximus intruded with a clear voice."But they fight for Rome," he said.

Valerius spun around even as Arvalis' jaw dropped in surprise.Maximus quirked a nasty smile just for his replacement, letting the man know how little he appreciated the interference.Speechlessly, Valerius' eyes traveled nervously from Quintus to Maximus and back again, silently asking all the questions he could not put into words."General," he finally gasped.

Maximus took the offered hand and nodded warmly."They do fight for Rome, don't they?" he smiled.

"They'll fight for you, sir," Valerius replied without hesitation.

"Then gather the officers," Maximus ordered."We've got planning to do."While watching Valerius' quickly retreating form, he noticed Arvalis' face becoming tight with rage.After enduring the older man's squirming for several long moments, Maximus finally turned to him before he dared to speak, treating the other general to a harsh glare."Yes?" he demanded.

"What are you doing here?" Arvalis spat scornfully.

Maximus gave him a confident smile he knew to be infuriating."Saving Rome."

Arvalis' jaw worked uselessly for several long moments before he finally managed to challenge "And who let you out of your chains?"

"General – " Quintus began to warn Arvalis, but Maximus stopped him with a raised hand.At another point in life, he'd have been enraged by the idiot's attempt to insult him; however, at the moment he was amused in a peculiar way.There hadn't been nearly enough humor in the last few months of his life; perhaps he was making up for it now.Maximus calmly turned to fully face Arvalis, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Someone who finally figured out that you will not win without me," he replied quietly.

Arvalis, of course, misunderstood Maximus' change of tone.Even Commodus, fool that he could be, was aware that _quiet meant dangerous_ in a man like Maximus Decimus Meridius.He was also beginning to get annoyed, which was not only dangerous, but deadly as well."And so you are some miracle worker?" Arvalis taunted.

"No," the general replied with a softly threatening smile."Just someone who cares enough about Rome to save her."

The other man stepped perilously close to Maximus in a hopeless attempt to intimidate him."You're saying I don't?" he shouted angrily.

Maximus returned his livid gaze for a moment, but he had better things to do than argue with the man.Beating Arvalis into a bloody pulp might have been satisfying, but would not save Marcus Aurelius' dream."Quintus, get this man out of my sight," he commanded evenly, trusting his officer to comply even as he turned his back on General Arvalis.

And came face to face with Commodus Aurelius.

Maximus blinked, swallowed hard, biting back the sudden desire to strangle the wretch then and there.His entire body tense for action, he forced himself to meet the eyes of the man, who only a week before, he had lived to kill.Fists clenched and eyes hard, he gave Commodus a glare intended to convey all the pains and despair he had suffered at the man's hands; Commodus blinked in return and shifted a little.The reaction was not much, but Maximus knew it was the best he would get, and that it meant Commodus was frightened._Good._

However, it still took an intense effort for the general to keep himself from leaping at the emperor.Maximus kept his body stock-still, knowing that should he move, he would betray his rage in an instant._This is not the time_, he told himself firmly, but his mind's eye kept envisioning how good it would feel to wrap his hands around Commodus' neck… _No.I will not give him the pleasure of having me killed.Another time,_ he vowed._For my family and for Marcus._Yet now a new variable had entered the equation.Rome.

And Rome came first.

Finally, Commodus, withering under the heat of Maximus' glare, smiled and spoke."So I see the great general has arrived," he jeered.

All Maximus' life-acquired self control went into restraining himself.He refused to take the bait."Can I help you?" he asked coldly, fists tightly clenched.

Commodus nodded easily, the façade of the gracious emperor again in place."Yes," he replied."You can begin by giving me your allegiance, in order to command my army."

_Ah, so that's the catch._Maximus stepped close to the man despite his repulsion.Softly, evenly, he spoke, making sure that Commodus heard and understood every word."I will never serve you."

Commodus gaped furiously, and fear lit off in his eyes a moment before he brought himself back under control.Maximus smiled for him coldly.He sensed Quintus at his right shoulder, tensed to act.The question was:would Quintus stop him or help him, if it came to that?He'd read the indecision in the other man's eyes earlier, the regret and the hope.Quintus was a good man, only mislead – would he follow his heart, or would he follow this false emperor's commands?

Gulping, Commodus smiled again, and arrogantly demanded, "You're here, aren't you?"

Enough was enough.Quicker than any of the surrounding Praetorians could predict, Maximus reached out and roughly grasped Commodus by the throat.Shock and panic played over the other's features, but that was no longer enough.Maximus leaned close to his face and replied, all his pain and rage filling his words."I am not here for you," he hissed."I'm here for Rome.And for the memory of your father!"

He threw Commodus backwards into the waiting arms of his Praetorians, who anxiously waited for their emperor's command, weapons drawn.But Commodus was still reeling.The poor arrogant boy could not grasp that the general still did not fear him."How dare you?" he stuttered.

Ignoring the Praetorians, Maximus stalked toward him once more, halting just out of arm's reach."How dare I what?" he demanded.He was about to go on, but Quintus interrupted him.

"Maximus – " the other man warned.

"Yes, listen to your friend, Maximus," Commodus taunted, having regained at least a semblance of control."It wouldn't do you much good to die now, would it?"

Unfazed, Maximus stepped closer to the man he knew he would eventually kill, damn the consequences."Kill me and you'll have a civil war on your hands," he said dangerously.Commodus' focus traveled behind him, and Maximus knew that Valerius and the other Felix officers had arrived to stand face to face with the Praetorians surrounding him."And you'll lose Rome," he added.

"You think I'm afraid?" Commodus suddenly asked haughtily, desperately trying to regain control of the situation.

Maximus offered him his most vicious smile."I think you've been afraid all your life."

"Unlike Maximus the Invincible, who knows no fear?" Commodus shot back.

Laughing lightly, Maximus looked him in the eye."I knew a man who once said 'death smiles at us all.All a man can do is smile back.'"He watched Commodus closely for a reaction, wondering if he would recognize the quote.

The emperor smirked naively."I wonder," he mused cruelly."Did your friend smile at his own death?"

His entire body hardened."You would know," Maximus replied evenly.He threw the gauntlet down, and it made a very loud noise upon the grassy ground."He was your father."

Commodus blinked, his jaw dropping in surprise at the unmasked accusation.Around him, the Praetorians, especially Quintus, shifted uneasily, not quite understanding the words' meaning, but knowing they were a challenge all the same.As Commodus continued staring at him speechlessly, Maximus forced his body to relax.He had made his point, and the emperor knew it.Nervously, Commodus began fingering the dagger the general knew he had up his left sleeve, but a cold smile made him freeze.

"Don't bother," Maximus said dangerously."I will protect Rome, in the name of your father."He leaned close to the younger man once more."I will do what he asked me to do."

Again, he was rewarded with shock playing all over Commodus' face.Just as Maximus had long expected, he understood.He had known what Marcus Aurelius' last wishes were.The last question of his guilt left Maximus' mind._And yes, _his eyes told Commodus,_ I know as well._

For several long moments, the general and the emperor remained motionless, eyes locked in mutual hatred and challenge.Each knew that only one of them would ultimately survive, but only one of them was afraid.Wordlessly, Commodus stalked away.Maximus watched his back, aware that he had only won the first battle of what promised to be a bloody war.However, for the time being, that was enough.Closing his eyes momentarily, he whispered a silent prayer that no innocents more be hurt in the name of Rome.He also asked to be able to fulfill Marcus Aurelius' dream.

Finally, he turned back to Quintus and his officers."Tell me what we have," he ordered.

A map was laid on the campaign table before him."I have twenty-eight hundred Praetorians, four hundred of which are archers.Two hundred light cavalry," Quintus replied."There's also four hundred retired soldiers assembled that may or may not be any good."

Valerius picked up where the other general left off."The first Felix Legion is here, plus the Felix Regiment," he said."That gives us just shy of five thousand legionaries and a few hundred archers.And then five hundred heavy in the Regiment."

Maximus grinned and slapped him on the shoulder."Ready to fight?" he challenged.His heart buoyed and his fatigue vanished at the mere mention of the Felix Regiment, his own brainchild and _his_ heavy cavalry.

"Give the word, General," Valerius replied.

Quintus cleared his throat and gestured at the map."I was planning to use cavalry as our spearhead, then to deploy the infantry after we shatter their front lines," he explained.

"Lethal to the cavalry," Valerius commented, looking to Quintus suspiciously.

"I know, but we don't have much of a choice," the Praetorian said defensively."We're outnumbered and –"

"Desperate."

All heads turned to Maximus.Aware of their gazes burning into him, he continued alternating his study of the map before him and the surrounding terrain.Finally, as the tension in the air grew thick enough to taste, he continued."Your spearhead," he explained."Could get a lot of cavalry killed with little effect.If they have spears, they'd split us like pigs."

"Us?" Valerius echoed warily, but Maximus ignored him.

"No," the general mused aloud.A plan was beginning to form in his mind.It wasn't the greatest battle plan he'd ever constructed, but given the circumstances, it was the best he had in him.Besides, it had the novelty of being somewhat unique.Maximus picked up a stray dagger from the edge of the table.Using it to move the pieces representing each cohort, he outlined his idea.

"The Praetorians are our backbone," he said."We keep them between the barbarians and Rome.Once they advance, First Felix's numbers one through five cohorts hit from the left.Six through ten hit from the right.The Felix Regiment will close the box from behind the Germanian forces with the Praetorian cavalry.Questions?"

The other officers, Felix and Praetorian combined, looked at him as if he'd gone insane – and as if it just might work.Surrounding a numerically superior enemy could either be called suicidal or genius, depending upon the tactic's degree of eventual success.

One of them, a young Praetorian captain, finally spoke up cautiously."Sir, if we split our forces and the Germanians get through with the first wave…"

Maximus didn't allow him to finish painting that grisly picture.He knew full well the risks entitled by his plan, but also knew that there was no other choice."The retirees are our reserve," he interrupted."If needed, they will aid the Guard."

"They may not be worth much, sir," Valerius pointed out.

_As if I didn't know,_ Maximus though with irritation."Then we'll just have to make sure they don't get through," he said evenly, wishing for more time and a larger force, but knowing he'd get neither one, no matter what god he prayed to.He gave them a confident smile that was only partially forced."Won't we?" he challenged.

Nods and mummers of agreement answered him.Their faith was growing slowly but surely.He could only hope he would be worth it one last time.

"Anything else?" he asked gruffly, eyes already scanning the horizon for the army he knew would be closing soon.No one answered.Quietly, he turned and studied each of his officers in turn, Praetorian and Felix alike.They all watched him, praying for the military miracle Rome needed so badly.Some he had served with before, others he had never even seen, but at that moment all their lives rested upon his shoulders and his next actions.It pained him that he did not know each by name.If they were to die under his command, he would prefer to attach a name to the faces he saw at night…. But there was no time for niceties or old habits.Trust in the unknown did not come easily to Maximus; however, he would have to throw caution to the wind one last time – 

For Rome.

For Marcus' memory.

And for everything he once was and might be again, he prayed that failure would not visit him today.

"Then get to your posts," he ordered.Catching Quintus' eye with his own, he nodded slightly for the other general to stay, but there were few other things to be said first."Santinus," he called.

His own master of horse turned to him."General?"

"I'll be meeting you before Felix closes the box," he said.

Santinus smiled."We'll be proud to ride beside you again, sir."

Emotion unexpectedly thickened Maximus' throat."As I will to be with all of you," he replied quietly, nodding for the cavalry officer to leave.Again he studied the distant hills, searching for the Germanian army he knew would come into sight soon… His sharp eyes picked up the tips of standards on the horizon moments before the cry echoed out over the army.

"They are coming!"

Maximus' heart leapt with anticipation, but he did not feel the familiar rush of adrenaline that usually accompanied a battle's prelude.Without knowing how, he knew he had been changed since his days of glory as Marcus Aurelius' general.Unfortunately, he also knew that none of his officers would understand or accept that any more than he could.Therefore, he would just have to find a way to fix his problems on his own."So it begins," he sighed quietly to himself.

Quintus moved to his side."Are you all right?" the Praetorian asked in a low voice.

Vision still focused his enemy, Maximus answered honestly."I'm tired.And I'm not sure why I'm here."Knowing he would be unable to meet his old friend's gaze, he did not turn toward him.

"You're here for Rome," Quintus said in a surprisingly gentle voice.

"Am I?" Maximus snorted."This is a mockery of everything we spent years fighting for.That army should never have gotten so close to Rome."

"But now it did and we have to deal with it."

"Speaks well for Commodus, does it not?" Maximus said sarcastically.He felt out of place here.Although he'd tried so hard to cling to his old honors and beliefs throughout his days as a gladiator, he was only now beginning to realize that he had, in fact, partially failed to do so.His old discipline was waning; he knew that, watching the Felix and even the Praetorians – they reminded him of everything else he'd lost, losses that seemed pale in comparison with that of his family, but now were still causing an uncomfortable ache in his heart.

"Maximus…"

He closed his eyes briefly against the old pains that were threatening to rise up against him."Don't try to talk me out of hating him, Quintus," he said harshly."He killed his father and he killed my family.I will kill him."

Surprise sharpened Quintus' voice."What?"

Finally, Maximus looked at him.The truth could stay hidden no longer, and he did not want to conceal it anyway.Too much energy had to be devoted to keeping secrets he could hardly bear to hold in."He killed the Emperor, Quintus."

"You don't know that," the Praetorian said desperately.However, there was doubt in his voice.

"Don't I?"

"You can't prove anything," Quintus warned him.In the distance, the Germanian horde grew larger and larger.

"Can't I?"

A frown of confusion deepened the creases and scars present on his old friend's face.Curiosity, too, was there, though – which gave the general turned gladiator a slim thread of hope."What are you saying?"

Taking a deep breath, Maximus decided to tell the truth.He had trusted Quintus in the past, and one act of betrayal could not discount all the times they'd fought side by side, all the times they'd saved each other's lives.Duty to Rome had forced Quintus' hand once before – let it force it again."Lucilla knows," Maximus said quietly.He glanced back at the German forces arraying against his army, measuring distances.They had time, but only so much.Still, there was enough.Gesturing at the enemy, he changed the subject temporarily."They'll halt at five hundred yards before they attack."

"Five hundred?" Quintus managed, struggling to digest the unlikely information he'd been given and balance this with the analysis that had come hard on its tail.

"Five hundred," he confirmed and then turned to Gallus, an older, gaunt Felix officer nearby."Ready archers," he ordered."Heavy weaponry stand by."

Half-listening to his officer repeating the orders, he returned his attention to the oncoming Germanians.The old battle-calm was coming on now and the adrenaline was starting to stir.Perhaps not as much had changed as he had thought.

"She knows?" his second-in-command asked quietly.

"She knows."There had never been a doubt in Maximus' mind – once he'd seen the stricken, pleading look on Lucilla's face as she sat by her dead father's side, he had known of Commodus' guilt.He had known all he fought for was dead.

To his credit, Quintus did not ask how Maximus knew."What were you going to do?" he queried.

Swallowing his reluctance, he decided that Quintus deserved to know._If only things had turned out differently… _"I was going to speak to Gaius and Falco, to tell them what I knew."

"To tell them that the Emperor had been murdered?Why?"He could hear the other man's frown behind his words."They wouldn't have been able to do anything."

"No…" Maximus paused a long moment."To tell them that Marcus hadn't intended Commodus to be his heir."

"What!"

Slowly turning to face Quintus, Maximus locked his emotions far beneath the surface."He told me the morning he died," he said quietly, certainty making his voice cold.Despair threatened to overtake him, but he fought it back.Now was not the time.Grieving for an old friend could wait."That is why Commodus killed him."

Quintus' eyes grew wide, but the general turned away, unable to bear the questions asked in those very same eyes.Those were still the questions he did not want to answer, did not want to even consider the answers to.But there was a dream he would still die for.

"General!" a voice made both heads turn expectantly.Seeing the approaching Praetorian, Maximus looked back to his enemy.They were definitely coming – and definitely motivated enough to attack Rome.

"Yes?" Quintus asked.

"Caesar wishes to see General Maximus," the Praetorian said formally.

Maximus never took his eyes off the Germanians.Moving at a faster pace than before, they were close enough for him to tell that they were getting restless.Unfortunately, his enemy was uncowed and ready to fight."Tell him I am busy."

"Maximus…"

"I don't serve him, Quintus," he said quietly, surprised at his own control."I never will."

After a moment's hesitation, his old friend snapped in a clear voice."You heard the General, Centurion!"The sound of hurrying footsteps announced the Praetorian's departure.

"Thank you," Maximus said sincerely.The last person he needed to see at the moment was Commodus Aurelius.His mind needed to be clear of distractions, were he to win Rome today.

By his side, Quintus also studied the Germanian forces.Obviously, the enemy was prepared for a bloodthirsty battle; rather than the confident, screaming mass they had encountered along the Danube, this force was grimly silent.From the corner of his eye, Maximus saw the other general's face hardening into his own pre-battle mask; his eyes were narrowed and his body was tensed.The only relief would come from battle, they both knew.Again, Maximus measured the distances as their enemy halted.

"Five hundred yards," Quintus whispered, almost in awe."The gods must love you."They laughed together.Maximus was only half-listening, just as Quintus was only half paying attention to his own words; however, they had been serving together long enough to recognize the fact that their idle banter was really only a temporary way to alleviate the pressure.Like the rigid formations their army held on the field, it was a tradition worth continuing.

Maximus glanced to his right and saw his stallion standing by impatiently.It was almost time.A flash of gray caught his attention, and he looked down.Sitting patiently at his feet was the mascot of the Felix Legions – the Wolf of Rome.A wistful smile lit his face and he reached down to absent-mindedly scratch between the ears of the wolf he had raised from a pup.Skelton whined quietly and wagged his tail.Maximus dropped to one knee in front of the wolf."You ready to go?" he asked.Skelton yipped excitedly in reply.

Gravely, Maximus reached down and scraped a bit of dirt into his hands, then, as was his custom, rubbed it in carefully.His focus was clear now.Perhaps it had helped to tell someone why he had become as he had, to tell the story that had started it all – but all the reasons were irrelevant now.All that mattered was Rome and the barbarian army that stood outside her walls.He brought his hands to his face and inhaled; the breath he let out expelled all his worries and tensions.Maximus the gladiator was Maximus the general once more.Today he would fight for Marcus Aurelius again.

As he completed the ritual, Quintus turned to him."Who did he want, Maximus?"The Praetorian's anxious look begged for the truth.

Rising, the general looked him in the eye."You don't want to know," he replied seriously.Julius led Argento forward, and Maximus met him half way.The enemy was breaking discipline now, chanting and screaming eagerly in their own language – there would be no negotiation, Maximus knew.The Germanians were out for blood, and they figured they could get it.He would have to show them how very wrong they were.

Quintus blinked hard and looked at him, at last understanding.A torrent of emotions raced across his features; his jaw worked uselessly as he fought to keep it shut.Abruptly, he held out a hand."Strength and honor."

Maximus smiled sadly, wondering if he'd read the look right.Why was it that everyone wanted him to be what he was not?Yet there was no use fighting it now."Strength and honor," he echoed, clasping his friend's hand.Heart pounding, he mounted his horse.As Julius handed him his plumed cavalry helmet, Skelton moved to his general's side, waiting.Unable to leave it at that, though, Maximus did not move.He had to know."Are you with me, Quintus?"

The commander of Commodus' guard locked eyes with him, searching his face.The general looked back, waiting; however, having known him as long as Maximus had, he knew the answer before the Praetorian spoke.Honor came before all else… Quintus' chin rose with pride.

"Just give the order, General."

Relief coursed through Maximus.He would fulfill that dream after all, and he felt his heart lift.Now he was able to leave and do what had to be done – but there was one last thing to say."Wait for my signal," he commanded.

Quintus nodded."Consider it done."

Maximus' gaze focused on the proud walls of Rome for a moment.They were a symbol of the very empire herself – they stood for all that was light and good in an otherwise dark and cruel world.To his knowledge, they had never failed to protect those that depended upon their strength.Today would not be the first time."No one gets through that gate," he ordered.Whatever else passed that day, the people of Rome would be safe.He would make sure of that.

"We'll all be dead before that happens," was the reply.He saw his own determination was mirrored on Quintus' face, and knew it to be the truth.

With a curt nod, Maximus rode away.The battle had not yet started, but the most important skirmishes were already won.As he rode quickly through the ranks of the First Felix's cohorts and his men rose in a silent salute, he felt his heart fill with pride.This was where he belonged – not in the coliseum, entertaining a bloodthirsty mob, but in battle, fortunate enough to be backed by the best army in Roman history, men he trusted as brothers in more ways than one.They would win the day, he knew – not because there was no other choice, or because they had to protect Rome – but because the Felix standards had never been lowered in defeat.

He cut behind a hill and was suddenly again in the midst of his Felix Regiment.A cheer burst from them as he rode to their front, and all his lingering doubts vanished as if they had never existed.Quickly, he scanned their battle-worn faces – looking for reservations, yet he found none.These were his men, just as they had always been.There would be no qualms about what was to come, and no misplaced loyalties.But they watched him, expectant and waiting.Despite the seriousness of the situation, he grinned.

"Felix!" he bellowed – for they were the original Felix Regiment, the first to proudly bear the name and the standard of the winged lion – and they echoed the cry in return to him, loud, lean, and hungry for battle.Scanning their joyous faces, he continued:

"Today we find ourselves in an interesting situation – but no matter what happens, we fight for Rome!We fight for the memory of Marcus Aurelius."

For a moment, a lump rose in his throat and Maximus was unable to speak.But Argento skittered under him and he forced it aside."Hold the line, and stay with me!This isn't anything we haven't done before.But remember – what we do in life echoes in eternity!"

The cheers echoed around him and their volume threatened to give the cavalry unit's location away to the enemy, but it was too late for Maximus to trouble himself with such semantics.Drawing his sword, he nodded to the unmounted archer at his side.

The lone, flame-tipped arrow arched gracefully into the sky.

Quintus, flanked by Lieutenant Presario at the raised command point, felt his heart leap as the signal arrow graced the blue sky from behind the cavalry's hill.Instantly, he wiped his arm forward."Loose!" he commanded.

At his back, the scorpions, ballistae, and archers let fly their deadly barrage.Clay fire pots tumbled lazily through the air, their appearance momentarily underlying the destructiveness they promised.Hard on the heels of the catapult's volleys came the scorpions' massive iron bolts and the archer's tar-tipped, flame-delivering arrows.With the first impacts, the screaming began.

Quintus nodded to Gallus and let the archer's commander continue fire at his discretion.Drawing his own sword, he spurred his horse onward to join the lines his Praetorian Guard had formed at the front.Five hundred yards distant, the angry Germanian tribes let out a war cry and launched themselves forward, mindless of the burning Roman countryside beneath their feet."Infantry advance!" he called to Valerius.

The burly man thrust his sword toward the sky in reply, and Quintus watched the Felix's standards rise as the marched swiftly to their respective positions.The killing box would be closed quickly, he knew; the cohorts of the 1st Felix were behaving exactly as ordered when they bypassed the front rank of onrushing Germanians to create the left and right walls of the trap.The only remaining factor was Maximus' Felix Regiment, yet to emerge…

Suddenly, there was no time left for thoughts, regrets, or tactical strategies.It was time.Quintus drove his blade into the air."Forward!" he cried, and as a deadly black mass, his Praetorians moved forward to defend Rome.

The Germanian tribal armies crashed violently into the thin Praetorian lines, but despite the concentrated pressure, the ranks held stubbornly.Just as some Germanians began to break through, the reserve force at the Praetorians' rear came into action and stormed those who lived to make a run at Rome's gates.Then the cohorts of the Felix Legion pressed in from the left and right flanks, and the tribal forces suddenly found themselves surrounded from three sides by Roman infantrymen who swung their short swords with deadly efficiency from behind their rectangular shields.

At Quintus' command, the Praetorians moved even further forward, pushing the Germanians into a sloppy, half-panicked withdrawal.However, as more and more barbarians rushed into the battle, Rome's protectors' were fought down to a standstill.Valerius, reading the situation even as he beheaded yet another Germanian, shouted to his trumpeter.Abruptly, the Felix cohorts drove ahead, tightening the corridor in which the enemy was trapped.The barbarians frantically lashed out, disorganized and losing what loose formations they had originally held.They were being torn apart through attrition and because they had no maneuvering space.One chieftain began desperately calling for a strategic retreat, but a battle cry abruptly drowned his voice out.

_"Roma victor!"_

Lead by Maximus, the Felix Regiment smashed into the regrouping Germanian forces, closing the top of the box and crushing the barbarians between four sides of Roman troops.Like a spearhead, the front riders of the Regiment continued deep into the enemy lines, wrecking havoc and raining death upon all in their paths.Aboard Argento, Maximus struck left and right, often killing an enemy before they even realized he was towering above them.He fought like a demon with long years of experience behind him, spotting openings and opportunities long before an adversary could defend against his skill.Sensing movement to his left rather than seeing it, he dug his heel into his stallion's side and caused the horse to leap sideways – and the spear barely missed his face.Howling, the general rode down the enemy spear-thrower and was almost decapitated by a swinging axe for his trouble.Argento reared at the last moment, saving them both and nearly depositing Maximus into the mud, but he was far too experienced a rider to let himself be thrown.Wheeling his mount around to avoid the axe-handler, he drew a dagger and let fly, with scant seconds to aim before the Germanian again almost brained him with the axe.However, his aim was true, and he left the dagger buried in his enemy's throat.

The axe-wielder fell backwards with the force of the throw and took Maximus' next opponent with him.In that split second's breathing space, the general quickly scanned the field for trouble spots.Unfortunately, one appeared even as another Germanian attacked from his right.A sweep of his sword and one more enemy fell, but no amount of killing would fix the gap he saw forming in his third cohort's lines.Spurring Argento forward and crushing yet another man beneath his horse's flashing hooves, Maximus called urgently "Valerius!"

Across the field, Valerius took a moment to dispatch of his current foe.When he responded, it was without taking his eyes off the battle."General?"Another man fell beneath the burly man's blade.

Still galloping forward, splitting opponents and avoiding allies, Maximus shouted a breathless reply."The lines!Third cohort!"

Only one who had been with the Felix as long as Valerius had would have known the desperation in Maximus' voice.To others, it would have merely have been a command, but the long-time legion commander knew differently.The Germanians were completely trapped – unless they could break through the walls of the box, and Valerius knew the consequences of that as well as his commander.But even as Maximus saw Valerius spin, relaying new orders to his men, the infantry ranks began to buckle under the increased pressure of the barbarian forces.

Suddenly, Maximus was pitched forward in the saddle and almost thrown over Argento's head as the stallion skidded to a stop before a spear could be thrust into his chest.One eye still on the ever-widening gap in his carefully constructed battle plan, the general struck the intruder down with a solid blow to the head.Valerius and his men were moving rapidly to fill the hole, but Maximus' experience told him that they would not reach the third cohort in time to prevent a breakthrough and no one else was close enough to stop the advancing foot soldiers.Again, he spurred his mount and burst through a final Germanian line to fill the gap.

Jumping off his stallion and facing the score of enemies alone, Maximus set himself for the attack and knew that he had a long moment before reinforcements arrived.

The first two were confident enough to rush ahead of their comrades, and met their ends accordingly, one through decapitation and the other through a quick thrust to the heart.Spinning, Maximus ducked behind one attacker and toppled him to the ground at his comrades' feet, forcing them to slow or jump over his prone form.With brutal efficiency, he danced between the others as they came, dispatching them with an easy ferocity that would have been considered unfair to even the Coliseum's audiences, but good sportsmanship could not have been further from the general's mind.He was fighting for his life, and for Rome, and success was all that counted.He had to hold the gap until his men arrived.

A sudden burst of air prickled at the back of his neck; even as he spun, he knew he was too late to prevent the blow from dropping.Maximus braced himself for searing pain – but a snarl came from behind him and he caught a glimpse of Skelton's teeth closing on his attacker's throat.Smiling, the general shifted back into action.He'd forgotten what it was like to have allies.

Motion to his right made him turn once more, instinctively raising his sword.But the blade was swept aside as its edges became entangled in the chain of a big Germanian's mace.The ball of the weapon – fortunately slowed by its encounter with his sword – struck Maximus in the left side of the face, knocking his helmet off and tumbling him to the ground.Experience alone saved him as, head reeling, he rolled _toward_ his enemy, straight into the other man's knees.The giant staggered and fell, landing right on top of Maximus' chest.Like an axe chopping wood, the general's elbow smashed once, then twice, into the Germanian's skull, but the man pushed away, roaring with anger and pain.Undaunted, Maximus twisted his body with his enemy and thrust his sword into the giant's back.

Then he was up again, vision slightly hazy from the blow, but knowing he'd survived much worse in his lifetime.Without thinking, he felled another rushing opponent, blinking furiously as blood seeped into his left eye.He turned toward the incoming Germanians once more, only to find himself back to back with one of them; he quickly slammed his sword hilt into the man's face and dispatched of him as well.When he returned his attention to the gap, he saw the line of enemies approaching more carefully now, wary of this one man who could hold a score of them off – 

And their moment's hesitation was all it took for Valerius and his reinforcements to arrive.Seeing that they held the ground, Maximus immediately hacked a bloody path back to Argento, who was standing miraculously unharmed just behind the third cohort's lines.Mounting, he again swept his gaze across the battlefield, searching for weak points.When he found no points to demand his immediate attention, he rode hard to where the Felix Regiment was holding the Germanians in.Gathering groups of his riders together, he directed small but deadly cavalry charges into the heart of the enemy; riding knee to knee and opponents falling all around them, his Felix Regiment again earned their reputation as dealers of death.

_"Barritus!" _The Germanian war cry snapped Maximus' head around just as he finished knocking one of the few mounted barbarians off of his horse.Searching the field with a practiced eye, the general found the cry's source even as it was echoed from nearly a thousand other enemy lips._"Barritus!" _A chieftain with more courage than sense was rallying his tribesmen to rush upon the weakened Praetorian lines, and his men responded by running forward, mindless of the death and carnage before and around them.Even as he watched, Quintus, now on foot, was calling to his men not to let them break through, but Maximus knew the Praetorians were tired and potentially in grave danger because they'd been bearing the brunt of the attack for the entire battle.Calling to the closest Regiment members, the general gestured up the field with the tip of his sword.It was a signal all his men knew well, and the cavalrymen instantly joined with him and formed a compact triangle with Maximus as the point.

Their small spearhead hit the Germanian rush on its flank and killed much of its desperate momentum before the lines were broken through.Hacking and slicing indiscriminately, Maximus fought his way to Quintus' side just in time to deflect a fatal blow aimed at his old friend's head.The offending spearman went the way of his dead comrades.He had time to spare a second's grin to Quintus before more barbarians were upon them and his attention was stolen away.For a moment, though, as the tide of the battle turned permanently in their favor, it seemed as if the past could be relived.Side by side and grinning, the two old friends beat back their relentless enemy for the last time.

Finally the field grew quiet and the fighting died, the exhausted silence interrupted only by the occasionally cry of pain drawn from a medic's patient or the curses of the few remaining and surrendered enemies.Maximus scanned the bloodied field with his eyes.Theirs was the singularly most ugly type of warfare, but once again, Rome had prevailed and proven that she was indeed the queen of any battlefield, no matter the circumstances or the odds stacked against her.Although the once beautiful countryside was now marred with corpses, blood, and fire, the empire was safe from her enemies, thanks to the courageous men of the 1st Felix and the Praetorian Guard.

His gaze shifted to them – the proud, tired, and victorious soldiers of Rome.They moved quietly amongst each other, exchanging words, nods, and backslaps here and there, their battle-rushes draining now, leaving behind only a great – though satisfied – feeling of fatigue.All but the most grievously wounded were rising to their feet to acknowledge their triumph over impossible odds.The smiles told the story; they had lost friends and comrades, but they had defended Rome and would gladly do so again.This victory belonged to them.

Maximus stabbed his bloodied blade into the sky in a vehement salute to his men._"Roma victor!" _he cried, his voice making Argento dance beneath him.

As one, the praetorians and legionaries echoed his exclamation, the rivalries between their services defeated far more easily than the enemy had been.They were one, drawn and bound together by the ties of battle and blood, and the success of defending their home.

Their roar rose above the field and echoed into the city itself, where Lucilla, still by her son's side, heard the shouts of a victorious Roman army.Her eyes closed against old memories as she wondered if Maximus could hear them as well and questioned what he might think of what had come to pass and become of Rome.Perhaps he was right to abandon the ideals when he had, for surely, they had died with Marcus Aurelius.Lucius, the excited child, merely leapt up to the closet window and struggled to see the victory he was sure lay beyond the city's walls.

Inside the cells of the Coliseum, Juba, too, turned his head at the noise, unsure if to be disappointed or pleased. So Rome had withstood more invaders.It did him no good, sentenced to die as he was.The center and light of the empire seemed very dark indeed to his eyes.He had lost two of his best friends, Maximus and Haken, to the "greatness" of Rome.What did he care if it lived or died?

High on the command point, Commodus also heard the battle cry of success and its rousing response.Cold fury filled his soul – how could that damn Spaniard _again_ have the loyalty of an army that owed their single devotion to him, the ruler of Rome?He _was_ Rome!But the soldiers paid little heed to their emperor's wishes, cheering Maximus continually, grateful for the leadership and courage that had held the day.A slow smile spread across the emperor's face.He would end it now.

Commodus turned calmly to Captain Albinus and nodded.


	3. The Dream that was Rome

# Savior of Rome

# 

# PART THREE: THE DREAM THAT WAS ROME

Quintus stared unbelievingly at his old friend, unable and unwilling to force the smile off his face as the general dismounted._Again,_ he thought._And again.And again.Does he ever lose?_But the praetorian knew the answer to _that._He turned to Maximus, offering his hand."Incredible," he commented over their men's cheers.

The general merely grinned, oblivious to the blood seeping down the left side of his face."As always," he confirmed, laughing."And still alive."

Finding himself pulled into a backslapping embrace, Quintus returned it and replied with chuckles of his own."Still alive!" he exalted.It felt too good to be victorious again for all the right reasons."You have some magical charm I don't know about?"

"It must be my good looks," Maximus answered in kind as Valerius approached, excited and exhausted as the rest of them.All three men shook hands, and again, it seemed as if nothing had changed.

"I still do not believe you held the gap, sir," the infantry commander remarked after offering his own congratulations.Although they had known each other for years, Maximus supposed that Valerius had never realized how capable a man became when desperately faced with overwhelming odds.He, on the other hand, had become well acquainted with that phenomenon over the last few months.

"Practice," he responded easily, knowing it to be an understatement of the best kind.Both Quintus and Valerius laughed, understanding the truth in such an account.

Then the inevitable question came."What now, General?"

That gave Maximus pause.He had options now, more than he'd had in a long time, yet some were distinctly more appealing than others.But he wasn't the only one with choices to make, and others had far less time to decide than he did.In the next few minutes, Commodus would have to act – and the brat surely knew that forcing him back into a cell could be _charitably_ called difficult at best.Especially with his army behind him.

Quickly, his eyes scanned the field once more.Despite the bloody battle, his legionaries definitely still outnumbered the praetorians – yet, if he was lucky, they would follow Quintus' commands, and Quintus was good to his word; he had promised his support, and thus would provide it.Valerius, he knew, would follow him to Pluto and beyond, no matter the consequences or no matter the reason.Commodus, he saw, was still on the command hill, looking oddly smug for all the problems he was about to have.Their eyes locked for the shortest of seconds, yet that was enough for them both to know that only one of them would be leaving this field alive.He would act soon.

_And let him try_, Maximus thought darkly.If Commodus wanted a fight, he'd get one.However, now was not the time for challenges.There was too much to be done before he crossed that hurdle.He returned his attention to his officers."Rome comes first," he answered Valerius, then ordered Quintus, "Make sure those fires are put out."

"Right," the praetorian replied, and shouted to one of his men."Presario!Take a squad to extinguish the fires!"

As the officer complied with his commander's orders, Maximus continued."We need to find out how many are wounded and how badly," he said quietly."And how many dead."

Although he nodded compliance, Valerius was clearly unwilling to let the conversation stop there."Felix is behind you, sir," he said bluntly."Whatever you want to do, we'll do it."

The general nodded pensively, touched at his men's loyalty.Try as he might to put that aside, Maximus knew that his infantry commander was right.Very soon, whose side everyone was on would begin to matter greatly.He looked to Quintus briefly, before returning his study to Commodus on the hill.When would the ingrate act?It was only a matter of time…"Will the praetorians follow you?"

"Most will," the other replied."Some will not."

Ignoring Valerius' raised eyebrows, Maximus thought quickly."Then we do this on the field," he decided."There is no reason to bring the fight to Rome."

"Good thinking," Quintus mused, then hesitated."What will you do?"

Maximus looked him in the eye."Finish it."

A flash of silver to his right suddenly caught his attention, and on instinct, Maximus began to turn – then searing pain ripped into the right side of his neck as a dagger tore by him, scything along the side of his collarbone, only missing his throat because of his unexpected movement.Clenching his teeth in fury and agony, he hissed and spun to face the blade's source, just in time to see Quintus tackle the praetorian to the ground.When he reached up to staunch the flow from the wound, he discovered that he wasn't bleeding too badly, but despite that, a sudden dizziness swept over him and he swayed.Valerius clutched his arm anxiously in support.

"Are you all right?"

Irritably, Maximus pulled away from his infantry commander and strode toward the newly disarmed praetorian laying dazed upon the ground, Quintus' sword pressing closely to his throat.The praetorian commander was even more livid than Maximus was – after all, this was _his _man attacking _his _general.Fear lit off in Albinus' eyes as Maximus approached and looked down at him coldly.His sword hung loosely in his right hand; he could have killed the man without a second thought, but chose not to.All emotion left his face as he realized that _this _was Commodus' sorry attempt at concluding their all too long battle._Fool, _Maximus thought with disgust._Coward.He could not even end this himself._

He studied Commodus' personal guard for a long moment, letting the man squirm ever so slightly, letting him know how stupid he had been to even try, orders or no.But this wasn't between him and Albinus, no matter how much he despised the incompetent and malicious praetorian.Cold realization sunk in, and with it a finality he had not expected.This would not be over until something else was settled.Albinus did not matter.His eyes traveled to the emperor.

Commodus, too, was watching him warily.The inevitable surprise was gone from his face, replaced by anger that almost approached fear.Two pairs of eyes met with only one thought passing between them.Just as Commodus dismounted his horse, Maximus started forward.

Quintus called after him, but he did not stop.His vision was narrowing down to only one focus – and only one.The blood dripping from the side of his face and his neck was irrelevant; the dizziness and the days of weakness were behind him.Nothing mattered except for those next few moments…Wary legionaries dove out of his path, but six praetorians drew quickly into a protective circle around their emperor.Appraising them with a single detached glance, Maximus discounted them quickly.They were only in the way.

Commodus suddenly smirked and looked hard into his eyes.The sneer grew into an aloof smile as Maximus refused to react."Arrest him," he ordered confidently.

Before the general could even tense for action, Quintus, standing at his shoulder, spoke."Stand fast," he directed the praetorians.The guards looked uneasily from one another, to their emperor, and then to their commander once more.They saw how he was standing at the side of the man who was supposed to be their enemy – yet Maximus had won the battle, had saved Rome.The confusion was plain – _He saved us and we are supposed to arrest for it?_

Livid, Commodus glared at the man who had helped him secure his throne."You, too, Quintus?" he demanded."Now you chose to betray your emperor."

"I chose to uphold Rome," the praetorian replied evenly, then took his allegiance as step further as he gave his men a second order."Let them fight."

As the praetorians backed away, Maximus resisted the urge to his eyes in relief; the last and highest hurdle had been crossed.Quintus was with him, good to his word.Now he owed his old friend more than he could ever say, but he was more than willing to pay that debt – 

In the name of Rome, whom Commodus had already hurt beyond repair, but would harm no further.

In the name of his family, who had died to ensure that the brat had a secure reign and that he had his vengeance against the man his father had ordered to oppose him.

And in the name of Marcus Aurelius, who had died for the dream that was Rome.

_It ends here._As their eyes met, his gaze calmly told Commodus the facts of life: only one of them would leave that field alive.The contest was winner take all: life, death, honor, revenge – and Rome.Nothing could stop the inevitable clash and neither would have wished it otherwise._It ends now._

Slowly drawing his blade, as if he had all the time and advantages in the world, the emperor smiled benignly at his silent foe.Even as the praetorians and legionaries formed an anxious circle around them to define the battleground, he demanded arrogantly, "What, no final words?" 

Maximus just stared.

Commodus let out an easy laugh, unafraid."I thought not," he commented, trying to rattle the general with his calm disdain, but Maximus wasn't biting."I am really quite sorry.We would have worked well together if you hadn't decided to defy me."

"I would not have had to if you hadn't decided to kill your father."

A collective wave of shock streaked tangibly through the air around them.No one had ever dared to accuse Commodus of what rumor had long convicted him of committing – until Maximus.The wily Senator Falco, lurking a safe distance from the fight, raised his eyebrows in surprise.Even the man whom had risen from the ashes of a dead emperor and through the chains of slavery had not been so rash as to go this far – until now.

Commodus' jaw worked speechlessly for several long seconds, and Maximus just met his furious glare with his own icy stare.Fear had finally entered his eyes, for even if he won, the assembled soldiers had heard the accusation from the man who had once been _Caesar's_ general, closer to Marcus Aurelius than even his own children.Should Commodus deny it, they would still wonder.With fifteen words, the general turned gladiator had poisoned the emperor's reign forever.

"You lie," Commodus finally spat.

Maximus looked at him levelly."I don't need to."

There the last straw snapped; Commodus rushed forward and attacked.Maximus quickly parried the angry blows and fell back cautiously before the onslaught, reminding himself all the while that, though furious, Commodus was still a talented swordsman.Despite that the general had years of experience and practice on him, Maximus could not afford to underestimate the brat emperor.Besides, he remembered, battle wounds and days of beatings had not weakened Commodus the way they had him.Still, he had no intention whatsoever of losing.Only of paying attention.

Finished gauging his opponent's strengths and weaknesses, Maximus suddenly planted his rear foot and ducked under a wide swipe Commodus slashed at his head.He spun inside the smaller man's swing and let his blade scrape loudly across Commodus' precious white-gold breastplate.Their positions suddenly reversed, Maximus favored the emperor with a cold grin and moved onto the offensive, beating Commodus backwards with frightening ease.Ineffective thrusts were batted aside like so much garbage as he moved implacably forward, not once losing his economical control of his actions.Every breath and every movement counted toward his final objective of defeating the emperor.

Regardless, Commodus fought back vigorously, if not effectively.Unable to parry every thrust Maximus made, he nevertheless managed to avoid all but the most vicious of blows.That one connected just below his left elbow, cutting him deeply and quickly staining his white tunic with bright red blood.Infuriated, he snarled and launched himself forward, only to discover that Maximus refused to fall back.Again, the general used his greater athleticism to avoid wild blows and twisted behind Commodus, sending him sprawling with a perfectly timed elbow to the head.

Panic entered Commodus' eyes briefly as he twisted on the ground to look up and saw his enemy standing over him, utterly unreadable.His breathing was coming hard, almost raggedly, as he stared helplessly.The surrounding guards also stood perfectly still, wondering if the next few seconds would define the fate of an empire… Maximus allowed him to rise.

As they faced each other once more, Commodus suddenly smiled and drew a dagger with his left hand.Maximus only looked at him, daring him to move, challenging him to strike – but then did not give him the chance.He advanced and attacked, blocking what few thrusts the emperor was able to manage in his surprise.Finally, Commodus seemed to remember the blade in his second hand, and brought it flashing down toward Maximus' unarmored neck for a deathblow, just as their swords locked together in a parry.

Maximus, having expected the move, countered more quickly than the surrounding eyes could follow.Changing his sword from his right to left hand, he brought his right arm up to block the dagger.It skipped harmlessly off his armored wrist guard and bounced to the ground, lost through the force of the impact.Before Commodus could strike again, the general disengaged his sword and struck with the full force of his weight behind the blade, knowing that a miscalculation would cost him an arm, if he was lucky.

The emperor's blood splattered on Maximus' face as his head departed his shoulders, flying, rolling and coming to rest several feet away.The general stood, motionless, for a long moment, almost unable to believe that the battle was finally over.His family was avenged.He could live again, perhaps, in peace.Closing his eyes, he felt a giant weight lift from his heart.He felt drained now that it was finished.Rome was free.

Finally, Maximus opened his eyes and looked down at the dead emperor, aware that hundreds of gazes rested upon him, and thousands of hopes.He looked up."Marcus Aurelius is avenged."

The silence around him was deafening.The entire army stared; uncertain if to mourn, to celebrate, or to fight now that their mad emperor was dead.Maximus became keenly aware that every praetorian's eyes were moving to Quintus, their commander, for their cue; the 1st Felix, on the other hand, watched him, wondering if they had not yet one more battle to fight.For his part, Maximus merely waited, wondering privately how it d would all turn out.He had never looked far beyond killing Commodus, never wondered what would come of it.He had never thought he would survive that long.A voice from the edge of the circle concluded the drama.

"Hail, Caesar."

He turned to see Quintus drop to one knee.Valerius quickly joined him, then was followed by all the praetorian and legionnaire officers alike.Soon, the entire army of Rome had accepted him unconditionally.

Maximus swallowed.The last thing he had wanted, the last thing he had fought for… That dream was coming back to haunt him once more._"I want you to become the Protector of Rome when I die…"_When revenge had been his goal, he'd never contemplated success and life coming hand in hand.Even when Rome's freedom had been at stake, he had never imagined fulfilling Marcus' last wish the way the old man had wanted him to.But now… now what?A position he had never wanted and a duty he had never asked for were his for the taking – and he could not refuse them.His own words, a promise he had made before circumstances had become so deadly, came back to him._I will always serve Rome._

He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, and nodded, accepting the allegiance of the warriors around him.Led by Quintus, they rose, and his officers moved forward.For a moment, Maximus had to wonder if he was doing the right thing – but he knew that no one else could.There was a dream left to fulfill…

As the post-battle clean up began, he had moved off, by himself, for several long moments, simply staring at Rome, the jewel of the empire – the city that was, for all practical purposes, his, but Maximus did not want to think that way.The soldiers left him alone out of respect, but he could feel their eyes upon his back.Curiosity was running amok on the field; everyone was wondering: what will he do?Chuckling to himself, Maximus inwardly admitted that he had no earthly idea.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Falco, Commodus' favorite scheming senator, lurking nearby, obviously trying to figure out how to best profit from the current situation.Oh, he had heard much about Falco…and none of it was good.That, too, drew a rueful smile from him.The whole of Rome had been turned upside down that day, Maximus knew – first by the arrival of a barbarian army, then by Commodus' death, which the populace was still unaware of.Making them aware would be interesting as well, and he had not the first idea how to do _that._Politics, his relationship with Marcus Aurelius notwithstanding, had never been one of his strengths.Despite the hundreds of philosophical midnight conversations he had shared with the old emperor – with topics ranging from tactics to chess to politics to history or to the sciences – Maximus had never expected to have to _learn_ from their abstract discussions.Sure, he had listened, but now he was wishing he had heard a lot more.Unwillingly, he admitted to himself that he needed guidance.

A quiet voice from behind would have made him jump if he'd still possessed the ability to be surprised."Maximus?"

Tearing his eyes away from the city, he turned to Quintus."Yes?"

Uneasy, the praetorian studied him for a moment, his face unreadable save for its concern."I brought a medic," he said suddenly.As Maximus raised his eyebrows curiously, he clarified: "For your head.And your neck."

Laughter wrought forth from him with surprising ease.In all the excitement, Maximus had forgotten about his still bleeding wounds.Upon reflection, he decided that it was good thing that they'd not left him alone for too long.Nodding to the nervous medic, he kept his eyes on Quintus, trying to forestall the inevitable awkward silence. "Thanks," he said quietly."You always did watch me better than I did myself."

The praetorian blinked.Frowning slightly in meditation, he finally spoke with painful honesty."I wanted to apologize," Quintus said."For – "

"Don't," Maximus cut him off."You did your duty; I did mine.There is nothing to apologize for."

Quintus, however, looked unconvinced."Then do not thank me, either," he said.

Reaching out to momentarily clasp his old friend's shoulder, Maximus disagreed."Ah, but I will thank you – for friendship."

A reluctant smile finally found a place on Quintus' previously stern features."Friendship," he repeated, nodding.

"Sir, would you please hold still?" the medic asked timidly, breaking the emotion of the moment.Both generals laughed, and Maximus shot the medic a sidelong glance.

"Do I scare you that much?" he had to ask.

"No, sir – I mean, yes, sir – I mean…" the young man stuttered, only to be drowned out by Maximus' laughter.

"Where did you get this guy?" he asked Quintus, truly wondering how he'd come to affect someone he'd never even seen before so unintentionally.Had the legend grown so much?What did the people of Rome see him as?A hero?An avenging monster?A man?

"Ahhh… Maximus' famous warped sense of humor returns," the praetorian replied lightly before answering, "I have no idea."He turned to the fretting medic."Ignore him.He's just a cranky old general who's been hit in the head too many times."

Trying not to move – and thus set off the nervous medic – Maximus gave his second-in-command his best mock-glare."Old?" he challenged."I believe you are two years older than I, Quintus."

"But not nearly as cranky," the other rejoined with a grin.

"I will not argue with that," the general declared, winching as a tender spot near his eye was dabbed at, ever so gently, by the medic's cloth.He waved away the anxious apology before it began.He and Quintus shared a knowing look before the Praetorian asked the unavoidable question.

"What are your orders?"

"I have no idea," Maximus replied truthfully, a helpless shrug sneaking past his usual control.Indecision was a rarity in a man such as he, but sometimes he felt paralyzed by choice."We will enter Rome – but how and where are a mystery to me.What we have done here is… well, extraordinary.In a few moments, much has been changed."

Quintus snorted, seeing his obliquely made point."Politics."

Nodding, Maximus agreed."Yes, _politics_," he grumbled."And they're something I'm going to have to learn rather quickly…" A grin slowly spread across his face.He might not know much about them, but there was someone nearby that did.And, more importantly, that someone was an opportunist."Get me Senator Falco."

Falco looked up to see the commander of the Praetorian Guard approaching him, steel in his cold eyes.Quintus Magnus had always struck him as a singularly incorruptible man, insusceptible to bribes, women, and anything else that the crafty politician had at his fingertips.So how had that bastard general-turned-gladiator managed to win his loyalty?_And they call me a snake,_ he groused._General Quintus just made him the _Emperor_ of Rome!To make matters even worse, the mob _likes_ Maximus.He was supposed to die here, not kill Commodus!_

Fear alighted in his mind. General Maximus was not a fool.Surely he knew Falco's political position – it was rather obvious from his presence on the battlefield.How, then, would he deal with that?

Suddenly, his association with Commodus didn't seem like such a great idea.

The young praetorian officer entered the bowels of the Coliseum, unsure of the reasons for his mission, but he knew his orders.Presario wrinkled his nose at the stench, then spotted Cassius, the intrepid announcer and manager of the games.Heading toward the plump man, Presario reflected upon the past few hours and what they held.It was easier to understand these gladiators now and what they fought for.His first battle had opened many doors for him, and he appreciated what it was like to struggle against impossible odds for your life and honor.Cassius looked at him curiously, and Presario found himself despising the corrupt man.Little did either of them know that the announcer was about to be out of a job.

A voice sounded from outside her quarters."My lady?"

Lucilla frowned.It was Falco, her brother's pet senator, and therefore one of her worst enemies.She could not fault him directly for the failure of her father's dream, but his hands had helped to tear it apart.Without his advice, Commodus would never have stopped the plot against him until it would have been too late, and maybe now she wouldn't be a virtual prisoner in her own rooms, wondering if she could keep her mad brother happy enough to spare her son.

"My lady?" Falco repeated.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh of resignation.The bastard would never go away without an audience, no matter what he wanted this time.At least her brother wasn't with him.Then he would have just walked in."Enter."

To her right, Lucius only spared the senator a disinterested glance before he returned to staring out the window.He was too young to understand, but she was not.Falco looked nervous, even timid – both emotions out of place in the normally suave politician.Her instincts started sounding alarms.Something was wrong.

"What is it?"

Falco bowed clumsily before speaking."The barbarians have been defeated," he began uneasily."But your brother, Emperor Commodus, is dead."

Her heart leapt into her throat.Were the gods perhaps not so cruel after all?Could Rome yet be saved?And Maximus…

"Dead?" Lucius echoed, jumping up from his window seat.The poor boy would probably mourn his uncle, who professed to love him and, in the next breath, threatened his very life.

Lucilla found her voice as Falco nodded toward her son."In battle?" she asked.How unlike it was of Commodus, to allow himself to be placed in mortal danger.This was almost too good to be true.

"No, my lady," Falco said quietly, then hesitated, misunderstanding her feelings on the subject."By General Maximus."

"Maximus?" she whispered.Lucilla was on her feet.Relief and gratitude washed through her all at once; the two people she loved most in the world were safe.Possibilities racked up in her mind, dreams and discarded truths arose from the grave."How?" she demanded.

Shifting uneasily, Falco gave her an obviously truncated version of the tale."The emperor called upon the general to win the battle.He did so and then defeated your brother in single combat."

_Maximus, the savior of Rome…_ Lucius' words chanted over and over again in her head.She had once thought them a curse, but now they seemed a prophecy.Lucilla closed her eyes.When she opened them, they were drawn to her son's almost-excited face.He knew not what this meant.Then again, neither did she, really.Heart racing, she grasped her child's small hand in her own.

"The army and the praetorian guard back him," Falco finished.

"When do they enter the city?" she questioned.

"Within the hour," the senator answered anxiously.

"Arrange it," Lucilla ordered decisively, dismissing him with a small motion of her hand.A gigantic weight seemed to have lifted from her shoulders.Lucius was safe.Rome was safe.Maximus was safe.All her dreams, once shattered, now were alive again.Lucius quietly tugged on her hand.

"Mother, what happens to us now?"

Juba emerged squinting into Rome's sunlight just in time to see Senator Gracchus ushered away by six waiting praetorians and their officer.What had earned them their sudden freedom, Juba did not know, but now he stood, lost, among Proximo's remaining gladiators.They looked to one another uneasily.Ten minutes ago they had been slaves.Now they were free.What was going on?

Citizens lined the streets, whispering and shouting anxiously amongst themselves.Rumors flew lightly with the breeze that made standards flap lazily on their poles.Some insisted that the barbarian army had been victorious and would burn the city.They maintained that their countrymen should be fleeing, not lining Roman's main avenue in anticipation.The praetorians streaming back into the city were only a sign of worse things to come.Others, who scoffed at the idea that a Roman army could lose _any _city, especially Rome, merely waited for the victory procession that was surely forthcoming.They knew that Rome was safe, it was said.After all, the Senate and the Emperor's sister were waiting, weren't they?

In the end, the crowd grew calm.The city could not have fallen, although her gates were still sealed tightly, against what no one knew – save the praetorians, and they were, as always, grimly silent.Rome was victorious once again..Rome was undefeatable!Curiosity became the rule rather than the exception.But, as always, some rumors persisted longer than others.Some were whispered over and over again throughout the mob, no matter how ludicrous they seemed.

They said that the Emperor was dead.

If he was, few would mourn him.It normally mattered not to the citizens of Rome who was in power, save that they were left alone to do their business, to raise their families.As long as they were fed and clothed, who cared about the occupant of the famed Imperial throne?It was nice to be noticed now and again, or to be given games or public feasts, but such things only lasted so long.Life went on no matter who ruled the empire.However, Commodus Aurelius had ruined his early popularity.If asked why, anyone could name the reasons – citizens were starving and the grain reserves were almost empty; praetorians often had to keep the peace through force of arms and vicious threats.Only the nobility knew any level of relative comfort, and even they lived in fear of Commodus confiscating their property should they displease him.All in all, Rome was ripe for his death – though few dared to hope the rumor was true.Most knew that the gods were not nearly that just.

Justice… now that lay at the heart of another rumor carried in upon the spring winds.Spreading wildly through the crowd – even more rapidly than that of Commodus' supposed demise – was an attractive story, no matter how implausible it seemed.However, certain citizens were entirely too adamant in asserting its truth – and declaring that they had seen – beyond a doubt – General Maximus leave the city in armor and under escort by none other than Quintus, the commander of the praetorian guard.Had he been called to win the battle?The gossipers had no answers, only unending questions.But however unlikely they seemed, those questions spread, and the crowd buzzed in anticipation.

A shout rose and was carried across the multitude.The gates were opening.

Hoof beats sounded.Marching feet echoed against the concrete.Three standards flapped in the wind, legionnaire and praetorian side by side – for the first time, many in the crowd realized.Ahead of both infantry standards was that of the famed Felix Regiment, heavy cavalry unit of the Northern Army, widely acknowledged as the best in the world.But the eager eyes of the populace barely noticed this.They were drawn inevitably to the man, tall in his saddle, who lead the procession.It was Maximus.

Shocked, surprised, and delighted, the crowd began to roar.Quintus Magnus, the commander of the Praetorian Guard, followed the great general closely.Beside him rode a burly infantryman, uncomfortable on horseback and unrecognized by the crowd, but clearly a legionnaire.Select infantry, cavalry, and praetorian officers marched in their wake, heads high and proud, the saviors of Rome.The lot of them was distinctly _unpresentable_, covered in blood, mud, and gore, every last one of them fresh from battle and not the parading sort.Most had never marched in a general's Roman _triumph_, nor was this exactly an event of that sort, but they were proud, and deserving.The crowd cheered them wildly, despite their faults and grungy appearance.No one cared what the soldiers looked like – _they had saved Rome!_And slowly, the crowd realized, Commodus was nowhere in sight.

The roar grew in volume, and slowly became a chant._Maximus!Maximus!Maximus!Maximus!_

At the end of the long _via_, the voice of the crowd reached uneasy ears.Senator Gracchus, only reinstated moments before, looked nervously to his colleagues, wondering futilely if they had traded one dictatorship for another.Falco, too, shifted restlessly, having vastly underestimated the effect Maximus' mere presence would have on the crowd.Both simultaneously looked to Lucilla and Lucius, the surviving members of the Imperial line, wondering what would become of them.It was a well-known fact that Commodus had killed the general's family – so what was to become of the emperor's relatives now that he was dead?Lucius, caught up in the crowd's excitement – Maximus was his hero, after all – merely squinted to better see the approaching soldiers in the distance.Lucilla, for her part, avoided the senators' gazes, heart caught in her throat.Her world teetered upon its axis; everything she had dared to dream for was coming true, yet would it perhaps prove to be unworthy of all her fantasies?She did not know.

The crowd grew louder and louder the closer he came to the palace, making Maximus frown and increasing the raw pounding in his head.He'd anticipated their reaction, but not fully understood what it would be.They expected an emperor, wanted an emperor, but he could not do so – not without first fighting with all his power to see Marcus Aurelius' vision fulfilled.It might not work, but he would never abandon the dream that was Rome.To hell with the mob's expectations.He would do the right thing.They would come to understand.Besides that, he was under no illusions about the obstacles he was about to face.

Suddenly it became hard to breathe, as his heart leapt into his throat, as he saw her.There was Lucilla, radiant in dress of white, standing at the top of the steps, awaiting him.Much of the senate was with the princess, but Maximus had eyes for her alone.He had so few dreams of his own left… dare he to dream this one?Just once, he decided to throw caution to the wind.Just once…And there was no time to question his conviction.They had arrived, and the mere sight of her was enough to banish all his aches and pains._May the gods forgive me for what I am about to do…_

Slight pressure on the reins was all that Argento required to halt; the well-trained stallion was nearly as tired as his owner.Ignoring the deafening cheers of the people – although he was fully conscious of the fact that they grew louder by the moment – Maximus dismounted and strode forward, mounting the steps.He did not need to look back; he knew that Quintus and Valerius were right on his heels, lending support and, more importantly, doing so that the Senate would see that the army was behind him, praetorians and legions alike.Servants scuttled forward madly to collect their horses, but they too, were paid no heed by the general.Maximus only had one goal in mind.

He did spare the senators a side glance, noticed Gracchus among them.Fellow conspirator the old man might have been, Maximus was well aware that he would be the hardest to convince.His instincts lit off at the mere sight of the crafty, though honest, politician.The senior senator would be the last to trust him, or the last to understand why he did what he did.As such, Gracchus' shocked expression as Maximus swept right past him and his colleagues was to be expected.

Lucilla, however, seemed far from surprised when he moved toward her first.Their eyes met and locked – both knew that these first few moments and actions would shape Rome's future.In that first second, though, they knew that they would shape it together.With a small smile, she offered him her hand.

The crowd let out a renewed roar as he accepted it and kissed the back gently."My lady," he said quietly.

"General."Her fingers closed on his for but a second, her feelings conveyed through the touch, no matter how slight it would seem to an outsider."I am glad to see that you are all right."

"Thank you."Oh, how he yearned to draw her into his arms – and knew she wanted it, too – but control won out.He frowned slightly.Control always won out.But then the smile won, too, over the frown, when he looked into Lucius' exuberant face.

His eyes flickered back to Lucilla, and Maximus inclined his head ever so slightly toward the senators.Eyes shining, she offered him a small, private smile that he'd not seen in… too many years.Her political expertise would have put any of Rome's conscript fathers to shame.Gracefully, the princess moved her hand to his arm and led Maximus back toward the watchful senate.He studied them quickly, swallowing his ever-present hatred of politics.Most of them were as confused as he was.Good.He could use that.

"Senators," Lucilla said clearly, "allow me to introduce General Maximus Decimus Meridius, the savior of Rome."

To a man, the senators bowed – they had little or no choice, really, given the situation.It was plain that the general had the loyalty of the army, and that, in pure Roman political realities, meant that the throne was his for the taking.The senate's formality of approval always went to the man whom the army backed.Maximus acknowledged them with a curt nod, understanding why they shifted uneasily under his direct, evaluating stare.Not one of them knew his intentions or his past, aside from what rumors whispered of him.He, too, knew little of them, which evened the playing field, although they were unaware of that, something he intended to ensure remained true.Besides, with Lucilla as an ally, he was sure that his political naivety would not last long.

For a moment Maximus reflected upon the irony of his situation, but only long enough for a course of action to become clear in his mind."The barbarian army is defeated," he said abruptly."Commodus is dead.Rome is safe."

"What are your intentions now, General?" Gracchus asked pointedly.

Maximus remained silent for a brief span of time, wondering helplessly how to put into words what he felt so that it might be understood.There was no way to describe the depth of the responsibility he felt to Marcus Aurelius' dream, or the devotion he felt to the old man's memory.How to explain what they had only dreamed of before?No words could truly describe his _intentions_, or his dreams.Finally, he spoke."First," Maximus said slowly, "we put Rome back together."

"And then?" Gracchus pressed.

"Then we fulfill Marcus Aurelius' dream of Rome," he said quietly, but without hesitation.There was no doubt in his mind of what had to be done.And, as always, Maximus told himself that he would succeed or die trying.

Raised eyebrows greeted his avowal with skepticism; even the few among the senators who knew what he meant could not have possibly believed that he would follow it through.Why should he, being in uncontested control of all Rome?What did he have to gain by giving Rome back to the people, when he had it all?Nothing, and thus they could not believe it.Each was too accustomed to the trickery of the political arena to believe such words so simply said.

Lucilla averted the inevitable arguments by speaking first."Gentlemen," she said cordially, "Now is hardly the time or place to discuss these matters.Perhaps you should do so at the regular senate meeting?"

Gracious nods greeted her request – clearly, they appreciated her version of tact over Maximus' lack therefore of.Quickly, the senators disbanded, some waving to the crowd before disappearing, others simply departing without fanfare.As they did so, Lucilla took Maximus' hand in her own and led him inside.Unbeknownst to either, however, was the fact that Senator Gracchus had followed them, his curiosity having gotten the better of his common sense.

The moment they had escaped the prying eyes of the crowd, both the princess and the general swung to face each other, their carefully pent up feelings finally bursting to the surface.For just a moment, neither moved, both too shocked by success to fully grasp what joy they now held in their hands.Then Lucilla, with uncharacteristic emotion, flung herself into his arms."You did it," she breathed.

Maximus closed his eyes briefly and felt the weight of his old failures leave him.He nodded, then pulled back to look in her bright eyes.As she smiled at him, he drew her close for a passionate kiss sure to be the first of many to come.

finis.

# 


	4. Epilogue - No Longer Alone

Savior of Rome Robin G Roberts Normal Robin Gail Roberts 2 73 2001-11-01T13:38:00Z 2001-11-01T13:38:00Z 3 2179 12425 103 24 15258 9.2720 **No Longer Alone**

The epilogue to savior of Rome

            Hot water stung his broken body as he sunk into the bath.  Despite the pain, he was at peace for the first time since… since when?  It was hard to remember that far back in time.  Another lifetime ago, he had been Marcus Aurelius' general, the man whom all Rome's enemies trembled before in fear.  More recently, however, he'd been a slave and a gladiator, both by force, neither by choice and neither without pain.  But in a way, both had been easier than the burdens that he'd borne as the emperor's general.  Neither had carried any responsibility for anything other than himself.

            So then it was a rather abrupt change when he'd come into power in Rome.  Sure, his intentions were to fulfill Marcus' dream of a republic, but even Maximus, with his minute knowledge of politics, knew that would be a daunting task at best.  Fortunately, though, there was someone by his side… someone who knew him better than he knew himself, and knew more about Roman politics than anyone alive.  Still, it would not be easy –

            _Enough,_ he told himself firmly.  _I am here to relax, not to fret._  Through sheer force of will, Maximus pushed his worries from his mind and sank deeper into the water.  It was good to unwind, to release the burdens of his new position for a moment.  There wouldn't be nearly enough opportunities to do so in the coming days, so he knew that he had best get it over with now.  Besides, he needed the break, and wherever better was there to take it than in warm water?  Unintentionally, he started to slip off to sleep

            "So tell me," the voice came from behind him several long minutes later, making a smile light his face.  "Are you going to bathe or sleep?"

            "Either.  Both," Maximus replied drowsily, not bothering to open his eyes.  The conscious part of his mind, however, was thanking the gods that he was up to his neck in the tub and there was no way that Lucilla could see his numerous half-healed and not-so-healed wounds, save for the rather obvious one on his head, which the earlier battle could truthfully explain away.  Keeping secrets from her was not exactly what he wanted to do, but he knew he had to explain his problems on his own terms, not as circumstances dictated.

            "Hmmm… sounds dangerous," the beautiful princess mused.  "Sounds like Maximus."

            "Does it now?" he asked playfully, basking in the warmth of her presence as he felt her lips touch his cheek.

            "Yes," Lucilla agreed, slipping her arms around his neck.  Though she did not know of his pain, her touch was still light, and he reveled in the feel of her closeness and love.  Together they shared a moment of quiet peace before he spoke.

            "Careful," Maximus warned with a grin.  "You might get wet."

            The returned smile was plain in her voice.  "Only if you pull me in like you used to," Lucilla remembered.

            "And you think I have matured or something?" the general countered, finally realizing that there _were_ good memories mixed in there with the bad.  Life had held so much grief for him that he had forgotten that there had once been past joys.

            "Not likely."

            Maximus chuckled softly, then opened his eyes and swung to face her.  Humor was good for the soul, but half-truths were everything but.  There were some things she needed to know, and putting them off would only damage their relationship.  He'd not keep secrets from her now; doing so had hurt them enough in the past.  Seriousness entered his voice as he said, "But I have changed, Lucilla."

            She met his open gaze with her own.  "You grew less emotional, colder, harder, and more hurt," Lucilla responded evenly, touching his cheek gently.  "And more alone."

            "Yes," he whispered, touched by the truth in her words.  With only one sentence, she had summed up what would have taken him hours to explain.  In truth, she knew him better than he could ever hope to know himself.  "More alone."

            "We are alike, Maximus, you and I," the princess said quietly.  "We both love too much and are hurt very badly when we lose those we care for.  Fortunately, we now have each other to turn to."

            "Yes."  Further words caught in his throat with unexpected emotion.  He wanted to say, _And I don't want to lose you ever again,_ but somehow the feelings would not form into coherent speech.  Maximus loved Lucilla more than life itself, but the words that would have once come so easily remained unspoken for times past and recent experiences.

            Suddenly she kissed his forehead, seeming to read his mind.  "I know you are hurt, Maximus," Lucilla whispered.  "I know what Commodus had done to you.  I know you are in pain, and were hurt in battle.  You needn't hide that from me."

            "I wasn't going to," he protested quietly, amazed at how well she could read him, and that she'd obviously convinced Quintus to tell her what had happened on the field earlier that day.  With a half-hearted smile, he made a mental note never to try to get anything past her brilliant mind.

            "Pride just kept you from opening your mouth until I mentioned it," she countered.

            Maximus nodded reluctantly, noticing her concerned look.  "I'll be fine."

            Lucilla snorted and glared for a moment, then her tone and face softened.  "He had you tortured, Maximus," she said quietly.

            All emotion left his voice as a thousand images and memories assaulted his mind.  Angrily, he pushed them away.  Now was not the time for that.  The past was the past.  "Yes," he said shortly.

            "You cannot tell me that it did not hurt you," Lucilla said gently, the care in her voice slicing neatly through his cold reserve.  "Not after what you have been through during the past year."

            A denial came immediately to mind, but he pushed it back.  _No secrets, remember, Maximus? _an inner voice demanded.  _You promised yourself that._  _True love has no secrets worth keeping, unless you want to lose her again.  _"No, I cannot."

            "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

            He turned away, and his eyes focused on the far wall.  The memories rose, and this time, would not go away.  "No."

            Even while not looking at her, Maximus could feel her displeasure.  No, displeasure was not the right word – his lack of trust had hurt her again, dammit.  He'd once been so good at that, long ago… But he hadn't meant to hurt her.  And he didn't really mistrust her.  Maximus just didn't want to talk about it.  Now angry with himself, he shook his head wearily.

            "I'm sorry," the general said quietly.  "I am not myself…"

            "Aren't you?" she wondered.  "Stubborn, strong, trying to do everything alone…" Gentle fingers brushed his cheeks.  "You are not alone, Maximus.  And you cannot fight this battle by yourself."

            Inside, he knew she was right, but painful pride kept him from admitting anything of the sort.  Circumstances and memories made him want to keep the most recent pain locked deep inside; once already, he had lived through and healed from hell, with only the help of a good man to see him through and preserve his sanity.  Now, though, the father he knew was gone, and even though he trusted Lucilla, loved Lucilla, she did not and could not know what had happened all those years ago in Germania…. And to tell her of recent memories meant to relive and explain the past.

            That darkness, though, was something he'd never wanted to touch again.

            Only in recent days, he'd been forced to face it repeatedly – first by Commodus and his ruthless enforcers, and now by Lucilla, who, though she meant well, still could hurt him greatly.

            "I know," he finally replied.  "There are just many things in my life that I have told so few… Not even my wife, when she asked."

            Her quiet voice startled him.  "Germania."

            Eyes snapping up to meet hers, Maximus' heart did a backflip in his chest.  How did she…?

            "I was at the camp, for a time," the princess replied.  "With Verus.  But I sat at your bedside while you fought to live…even when the doctors said you had no chance."

            Emotion and old memories threatening to overcome him, Maximus whispered, "I did not know."

            Somehow the past and the present were linking together – in ways he had never thought possible, and so many heartrending disappointments were slowly yet surely fading into nothingness with so few words…It suddenly felt good for her to know, to understand.  Somehow, it made him feel so less alone in an otherwise dark and cruel seeming world.  No longer were his dreadful secrets his alone.  He needed not to rip another hole in his already shredded heart to reveal that old truth.

            "You had no reason to.  I begged my father not to tell you."

            "Why?" His voice carried very softly now, as memories tumbled through his soul for two reasons – once, for the past, and again, for the man whom had helped him through it.

            "Because it could have only made us both do what I longed for," Lucilla admitted.  "I was married, and I was afraid."

            "Afraid?"  
            Her eyes met his.  "To admit that I still loved you."

            Maximus closed his eyes, remembering back to a time he'd all but blocked from his soul.  Before this moment, he had never wanted to remember those experiences again, but now it was suddenly very important to know.  "I awoke once," he said quietly.  "I thought I saw you… I heard your voice, telling me not to die.  But I slipped back into unconsciousness, and when I opened my eyes, you were not there.  So I thought I had been dreaming."

            Again, her lips brushed against his cheek before she gently wrapped her arms around his neck.  "I'll never be a dream again, Maximus," Lucilla said.

Maximus leaned into her touch, opening his eyes to gaze upon her beautiful face.  Tears were rising in his eyes, born of emotions he had forced to lie dormant for too long.  "I love you," he whispered.

"And I you."

            "Are you going to be my new father?" Lucius asked suddenly, his bright eyes focused unwaveringly on the general.  Though the question alone was unsettling enough, what really threw Maximus was the hope in the young prince's eyes.

            "I don't know," he replied honestly, a lump forming in the back of his throat.  _Are you going to be my new son?_  Could anything ever replace the loved ones you lost in life?  This was his first time alone with Lucilla's son, and he'd have readily acknowledged that he hardly knew the child.  While he'd immediately been struck by Lucius' resemblance to his own lost son, once upon a time, it was impossible to suppose that either of them could be what the other needed.

            Of course, he could have told Lucius that, but surprise had wrought a far different answer from him.  Impossible, yes; improbable, true, yet at that point, the former gladiator was sure of very little.

            Lucius looked up at him, somehow capturing the older man's eyes with his own.  "I'd like it if you were," he said openly.  "I barely knew my father, but you're nicer than he was.  Mother likes you a lot, too."

            And there was the common thread linking man to boy – Lucilla.  The very thought of her was enough to make Maximus' heart warm.  The past had been always cruel to him in terms of relationships, yet he had finally and conclusively found love anew.  As they grew closer, he knew that Lucius, the light of his mother's eye, was included in the bargain, but he had not thought through the consequences until slapped in the face with them.  Although it didn't surprise him, it did frighten him, inwardly, for Maximus was unsure how much his heart was willing to accept.

            "I like her, too," he finally replied quietly, not knowing what else to say.

            Suddenly, Lucius tugged on his hand.  "Do you like me, Maximus?"

            Turning, the general dropped down to the young prince's level to look him in the eye.  "Of course I like you, Lucius," he said sincerely.  "I like you very much…. Only sometimes, you remind me of the son I lost, and that saddens me."

            "I'm sorry," the boy whispered.

            Placing a hand on Lucius' shoulder, Maximus half-smiled for him.  He wasn't lying; he had already become very fond of the boy.  The words, however, came far easier than he could have ever expected.  "It's not your fault," he said.  "Around you, I just remember what it felt like to be a father."

            The prince's answering smile was sad.  "Do you like to remember that?" he wondered.

            Despair warred with hope for an instant; past fought with present for control; but suddenly, the world fell into place.  Ruffling the boy's hair playfully, Maximus rose.  "Yes, I do," he replied.  "And I tell you what – if you are willing to get to know me, I'm willing to get to know you, and then we can find out what will happen."

            Lucius beamed.  "Can we?"

            Maximus let the demons float away once and for all.  No longer were they needed, and no longer would their presence be tolerated.  First Lucilla, and now her son, had showed him that there was life left to be had. The least he could do was take the chance, and help a young boy avoid a childhood as lonely as his own had once been.  There were a million things he might have said, but there was one he knew would take the first step.

            "Would you like to go riding, Lucius?"

            Lucius lay on the floor in a decidedly un-royal pose, his head resting contentedly on the snoring wolf's furry right side.  The boys' chest rose and fell in tandem with Skelton's as he slept, completely trusting, exhausted, and unafraid.

            "He is so happy," his mother said from where she sat, curled up in Maximus' arms with her head resting on his shoulder.  "Thank you."

            Lightly pressing his lips to her forehead, Maximus replied, "As am I… With you, and with him, I am finding something I thought I lost forever."

            "As I am with you," Lucilla replied, snuggling closer to him.  But then her tone of voice changed, became quieter.  "Sometimes I am so afraid that this is but a dream, and I will wake again under my brother's thumb."

            "Dreams only die if you let them," Maximus replied quietly.  "And I'm not going anywhere."

            She laughed a little.  "I would not let you if you tried."

            "Nice to know that we finally agree, isn't it?" the general said lightly.

            "Better than the past, at least," Lucilla replied.  The princess was silent for a long moment, then asked, "Maximus?"

            "Yes?"

            "Will you promise me something?"

            "Of course."  Whatever of the world that was his to command he would have willfully laid in her hands.  Anything…everything…He would give it all for her.  If her dreams lay within his power, he would ensure that they came true.

            "Let's never walk away again," Lucilla said quietly.  "Never again let pride stand in the way of love."

            Instead of replying, he gently cupped her chin in his fingertips and kissed her.  Quickly, their passion overtook them, and as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, Maximus felt Lucilla do the same.  Fire danced and the world spun, but neither cared for the outside environment, until the need for air finally forced them apart.  Breathlessly, they smiled into each other's eyes, like guilty teenagers sharing a first embrace.  In the back of their minds, they both wondered if love could always be so sweet.

            "I promise," Maximus replied.

Some things never die.


End file.
